


Just Another Tale

by InkMammal



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Puns, Domestic Undertale, Drama, Flooding, Funny, Garbage Dump (Undertale), Gen, Human, Humor, Inspired By Undertale, Junkyard - Freeform, Monster - Freeform, Monsters on the Surface, Mt. Ebott, Murder, One Monster In The World of Humans, Pre-Undertale, Puns & Word Play, Sans On The Surface, Sans alone, Storm - Freeform, Undertale References, Undertale Spoilers, Waterfall (Undertale), city, just another tale, skeleton, surface - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-05-29 22:59:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6397438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkMammal/pseuds/InkMammal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One moment he was working in his lab, and the next, Sans was waking up in the middle of a vicious blizzard, covered in snow and quickly losing the battle with the elements. Using shortcuts was nothing new to him, but he'd never had a shortcut initiate itself before, assuming that's what it had been.</p><p>And now he had no idea where he was. Even Snowdin's weather wasn't this bad.</p><p>And if he wasn't in Snowdin, the <i>only</i> snowy place underground, then...</p><p>... then where was he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snow Blind

**Author's Note:**

> Undertale Based AU, where things are a bit.... okay, a LOT different. Like, completely. Not even just a little, like, ninety-nine percent, 'what the hell'.

There was a loud, eerie  _creeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaking_  sound coming from the trees, as they groaned against the force of the furious blizzard that raged against them. The wind fierce and unforgiving, it vigorously pushed and pulled the trees in a violent and beautiful dance, threatening to break them at their core.

The bundle trudging through this incredulous weather squeezed themself into a more condensed ball, not so much for warmth, as to keep themselves from blowing away. One could hardly see their clothes, covered in nothing but white, frozen flurries, but through the layer of clinging ice, there was a faint, deep blue glow that seemed to pulse and grow brighter the stronger the wind blew.

And then they stepped into snow that had fallen thickly over the side of a long ridge. They fell through the snow, hit a substantial amount of underbrush, and then went sliding and tumbling and rolling through the snow, down the side of the mountain, until they were able to somehow bring their slide to a halt with that heavy blue glow.

They fell still in the many feet of snow, now lying near the very base of the mountain. Here, it only flurried under an overcast sky, the blizzard unable to wreak havoc so far down the mountain it inhabited.

The bundle of sodden clothing lifted itself up gingerly, seemingly more out of lethargy than pain, and brought itself to a knee, before standing wearily. They brushed themself off half-heartedly, before lifting their skeletal face to gaze around with tiny lights in hollow eye sockets, giving off a slight luminescence under the ever-darkening sky.

He was greeted by a tall chain-link fence that stretched on in either direction for as far as he could see. The snow seemed to stop near the base of the metal barricade, and on the other side was… was a garbage dump; a field that didn’t seem to end from where he stood, full of all kinds of junk and garbage, big and small, foul and decent, useless and useful.

And there was a small hole in the fence before him where a four-legged shadow of mangy fur was approaching him tentatively.

The skeleton eyed the dog with his own weary cautiousness, but showed no sign of being scared as he kneeled and slowly held out a mittened hand for the animal to sniff. He knew a number of dogs from where he was from. And had no reason to consider this one any different. He didn’t know any better; didn’t know that things here weren’t like they were where he was from.

The dog snarled and lunged to attack, but in the split second it took for the dog’s attitude to change from curious to hungry, the skeleton had summoned that blue glow to his hand and slammed the mutt into the ground with magic. When it yelped, and started yapping with fearful animosity, the skeleton only stiffened the boney fingers in this glove to press the little animal harder into the ground.

He wasn’t going to kill it. He just didn’t like his kindness being disrespected.

He didn't let up until he heard footsteps approaching hastily from behind, and he did so with a flick of his wrist, the dog scrambling away whimpering as the skeleton readjusted his hood over his face and shoved his gloved palm back into his hoodie.

“Hey!” The voice called suspiciously. The skeleton heard the footsteps slowing as the voice got closer, and he slowly began to turn towards them. “Who in the hell-“ They stopped dead. “Whoa.”

The skeleton’s hood could only hide so much of his face. His dimly lit, hollow eye sockets and grimacing grin would deter anyone not used to seeing it. Especially since, here, he was unknowingly like a walking corpse. He stayed as silent as the dead and the two foreign creatures simply admired one another.

It was a girl, with short hair dyed a riveting plum, hid mostly under a black beanie, and sky blue eyes that regarded him in shock and quiet awe. She was a good head shorter than him, despite his own short height, and had a bit of a lanky, but plump build. Her thin pink lips barely hinted at an intrigued smile, but he could see that it was there. She wore a zipped-up hoodie similar to his, except it was gray with a white fur lining, and her blue jeans were covered in dirt and paint of all colors. He noticed her black snow boots were lined with fur as well, all muddied from use. The ash colored satchel around her body was bulging with something inside, but he wasn’t sure he cared enough to know what was inside it yet.

The lights in his sockets flicked back to her shrewd, considerate expression and every bone of his body told him it would be wise to just run away, because nothing good could come of this.

But then she stuffed a hand in her hoodie, and grinned.

“You don’t look like you’re from around here. That’s okay.” She said charmingly, holding out her other hand. “My name is Elli. Elli Fents.” And she held her hand there, waiting ages for him to take it, and when he finally did, he shook her hand with a firmness that said he meant no harm, but he could protect himself if need be. Her face made it seem like she understood, and he grinned benignly.

“The name’s Sans. Sans the Skeleton.”

“Nice to meet you Sans.” Their hands fell apart. “You hungry? You’re skin and bones… save the skin.”

The skeleton stifled a laugh and grinned thoughtfully, before lifting his head a little more. “Got any ketchup?”

Her look of perplexity became one of amusement as she nodded. “Yeah, I believe so.”

“Then let’s  _ketchup,_ kiddo.” He said. She laughed, and motioned with her hand for him to follow as she turned away.

He did without question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of an intro chapter, and this story in general is something I want to play around with. We'll see where it goes.


	2. Bonely Skeletons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quantum Physics was definitely his forte, and as nice as it was to be able to have an intelligent conversation with someone that wasn't Alphys, Sans was finding himself missing home more and more.
> 
>  _Heh... do skeletons get bonely?_ He asked, and he kind of regretted the pun as soon as he said it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this chapter focused a little too much on an isolated subject, however it was necessary for the development, and I figured since I'd finished this chunk, to set it lose amongst you lovely nuggets.
> 
> Enjoy~

She lived in the junkyard.

And if Sans had known any better, he would’ve understood how absurd most people found this to be.

Her home, unbeknownst to Sans, was the shell of a big old Volkswagon camper with suicide doors and an expandable, mesh-walled roof, that allowed for heat to escape and fresh air to breeze through. It looked to have once been an olive green, whereas now, a thin layer of rust had eaten away at most of the paint. It wasn’t terribly spacey, but it was enough for her and maybe another person, and sat smack dab in the middle of a clearing surrounded by mountains of garbage. 

The suicide doors were open as they approached, allowing him to see the string of white Christmas lights dangling across and into the opening, illuminating the inside dimly. The layout inside was in a ‘U’ shape. For the most part, it seemed to have been gutted, so things like a couple of beanbag chairs, small tables, a mini fridge, and a microwave would all fit in.

On the left was a wall built-into the vehicle that looked lined with drawers, blankets and pillows sprawled out in the area up above, which laid under the expandable roof-top. Numerous shelves had been secured to the walls of the run-down vehicle, serving as homes to all kinds of randomness, most of which Sans wouldn’t even begin to be capable of comprehending. He recognized some things, he realized, like stacks of CD’s, simple tools, and a rubix cube, which he had to resist playing with.

“So you live here?” It was an innocent, honest question, however she seemed to take it a little poorly as she fixed something with the dangling lights. 

“Yeah… “ Her voice was a tad defensive. “I’m not really into the whole ‘white picket fence, suburban home’ deal. There’s nothing wrong with living simply…” Sans wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, but he caught the undertones.

“I only meant that I liked it.” He amended, which seemed to make her relax again. “I’m pretty simple myself.”

“It just feels nicer, not having so many things cluttering your life, your mind.” He wondered if she caught the irony that she lived in a junkyard, but he could definitely appreciate her mindset.

He noticed a book on the table inside, open to a page that read ‘Law of Attraction’. Sans arched a non-existent brow, standing right outside the entrance with his hands hidden in his hoodie.

“Philosophical theory.” He said simply, the lights in his eyes flicking to her face as she entered the vehicle and gave him a look. He shrugged a shoulder and explained, “The Law of Attraction is more of a philosophical approach to Quantum Physics, and not a very adequate tool for precise judgment and processing.”

“How so?” She asked, and he was more than happy to tell her.

“The Law of Attraction focuses on personal beliefs affecting events determined by natural causation throughout the universe; when in reality, it only changes a person’s perception of the world around them, and with this changed perception, said person acts differently. In the case of Law of Attraction – i.e. wishing with all the positivity you can muster for however long it takes until what you’re wishing for happens – you will subconsciously, or otherwise, find a way to reach that desire, but often end up perceiving it as an act of external influence. In my opinion, the Law of Attraction should be more condensed, and transitioned into the field of psychology.

“Then again, what do I know; I’m a skeleton.” He finished, taking in her saucer eyes and pursed lips and feeling like maybe he shouldn’t have gone off on a rant when he didn’t even know if the kid was reading this, or cared, or.... His worries faded away when she started nodding her head.

“I actually agree with that… would.. you compare it to double-slit theory?” She sat herself in a beanbag chair and looked at him expectantly. Sans lifted a shoulder and a corner of his mouth in hesitance. 

“No, I understand why you’d say that, but… Double-slit theory is wave theory, and studies the behavior of light, often by how it is recognized. Essentially, it leads us to believe that light is made of both particles and waves, because of the interference patterns that are demonstrated when certain circumstances are brought to attention. They noticed that the interference patterns are strikingly similar to waves, but then you get into things like wave-particle duality, which loosely taps into theoretical physics, and then there’s the chance we’d be here for years debating and experimenting A- and B-Theory, and as much as I love a friendly deliberation about philosophy and ideology, I couldn’t begin to claim I know, for certain, that anything about theoretical physics is true or false.

“However, if you want a decent dispute and explanation on Quantum Physics, with an open mind and compelling argument, I’m all _ears._ ” He said, his grin widening slightly at her stifled one. “Since you like to read, I suggest _Quantum: Einstein, Bohr, and the Great Debate About the Nature of Reality_ by Manjit Kumar. It really _clicked_ with me.”

She looked a little bewildered, however that smirk finally, slowly crept onto her face. “Well… I guess being a skeleton doesn’t necessarily mean you can’t have a brain. I feel way too stupid to grasp this stuff. I think it was a mistake to start studying it.”

“Nah, you’re being too _negative_ , kid. Take a couple protons and call me in the morning.” He japed, grinning slyly. It made her laugh. He liked making her laugh. But he got serious for a moment and spoke quietly. “ _’For those who are not shocked when they first come across quantum theory cannot possibly have understood it,’_ ” He said, looking at her. “That was the physicist, Niels Bohr. This stuff aint easy, kiddo, but it’s doable. You’ll get it, if you keep at it.”

“Thanks.” She praised. “It’s nice knowing someone who knows their stuff.”

“Any time.” He genuinely enjoyed sharing his knowledge of science. It gave him a little bit of purpose, as well as opportunities to learn new things himself.

He noticed her eyes were looking past him and he turned his head away, towards where the clouds had dissipated enough to reveal the bright, fiery orange sky behind him, and for a quiet, marvelous moment, he allowed himself the pleasure of watching his first sunset.

And for a sorrowful moment, he felt his soul ache.

_Paps woulda loved this…._

He felt an immeasurable amount of grief at the thought of Papyrus waking up tomorrow morning and finding him missing. Maybe he wouldn’t worry until that night, when he didn’t come home for dinner, or when he didn’t appear to read him his bedtime story. What would he think? That he’d abandoned him? That something had turned him to dust?

“You still hungry?” Elli murmured quietly from the camper, holding a bottle of ketchup out to him as he turned to face her. 

“Heh…” He feigned a grin and accepted the gesture. “Do skeleton’s get _bone_ ly?” And he kind of regretted the pun as soon as he said it.

He desperately needed to figure out how to get home.


	3. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Breathe._
> 
>  
> 
> He couldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concept has really inspired me to get back into some serious writing, so I hope I'm delivering everything you guys want and more. :)
> 
> It's another short one, but I think the story will flow better this way. I don't care how many chapters it takes, as long as the story progresses well!

He awoke with the sensation of falling, and the first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t. The second thing he noticed was the ceiling, and the third was the quiet murmuring from the television, which he turned his face towards in drowsy confusion.

It was Mettaton’s evening cooking show. He was preparing a quiche. The volume was down very low.

From the kitchen, he heard Papyrus’ gentle ‘nyeh heh heh’s’ humming over running tap water. Without removing his eyes from the screen, Sans slowly perched himself up onto his elbow and swung a leg over the edge of the couch he laid on, lifting his tired body up to sit there in disbelief. His boney hands rubbed against his forehead.

It had been a dream. But it had felt so real? He was surprised he’d even fallen asleep, much less fallen asleep and dreamt anything other than the usual nightmares.

Part of him was relieved it had only been a dream, and wanted to go to Papyrus and see him with his own eyes. And then there was that part of him that, regrettably, felt sadness when he considered Elli hadn’t been real, and that he hadn’t found someone new to share his passion for science with.

Well, that kind of sucked. But he’d rather be with his brother underground than without him on the surface.

He hoisted himself off the couch and sluggishly dragged his slippered feet to the kitchen to see Papyrus at the sink, his back to Sans, cleaning up after dinner. Funnily, Sans didn’t remember eating dinner. He didn’t remember getting home, either. He couldn’t remember that day at all… how tired had he been? How long had he been asleep?

“Hey, Paps.” He mumbled quietly. His brother didn’t seem to hear him, so he took a few steps closer, more hesitant, and reached a boney hand out for his brother’s shoulder, but didn’t touch him. “Paps?”

He retracted his hand when he realized his brother wasn’t humming and took a step around to see him more clearly. Papyrus was sobbing over the sink, scrubbing a single plate that couldn’t look any cleaner. And something in Sans crumbled a little at the sight of Papyrus’ face, stained with glimmering tears and the closest thing to a frown the skeleton could manage.

“Ah, Paps, wh-what’s wrong, bro? Why ya cryin’?” Sans feigned cheeriness in his words with a big grin, trying to quell his brother’s sadness. “Don’t make me hafta tickle ya funny bone, now.”

Papyrus only squeezed his sockets shut and dropped the plate in the sink, which he gripped in a desperate vise. Sans had resisted backtracking at the loud clattering of the plate falling, and stared at his brother, his grin wavering.

“Please…” Papyrus moaned faintly, and Sans had never heard his brother so _muted_ , so _heart-broken._ “…please, go away.”

Sans wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“…just leave me alone….”

“W-.. Paps, why… why would ya want me to go away? Huh?” He was trying really hard to keep his tone light and cheery. “I ain’t got no where but here to be, with you, Papyrus.”

“PLEASE JUST GET OUT OF MY HEAD.” His brother howled, and _now_ Sans took a step back, because he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what was happening.

“I… I CAN’T. SANS, PLEASE JUST GO AWAY, MOVE ON; EVERYONE ELSE HAS. I CAN’T KEEP TALKING TO YOU LIKE THIS… IT HURTS TOO MUCH….IT.. it hurts too….” He was shaking as much as his voice was before it broke away, and Papyrus’ legs gave out, making him fall to his knees. His hands still clung to the sink edge, as if that was the only thing keeping him stable.

And his brother wept. And Sans felt so useless. He felt so confused. He couldn’t understand what was happening, so he fell to his knees next to his brother and grabbed at him in his own grief.

“Papyrus, I’m right here…” He tried sounding anchored, “I’m not going anywhere, Paps!” But like his soul, his voice was weak. “Come on, look at me!”

Papyrus only opened his mouth in an agonizing wail as Sans tried to hysterically seize him in an embrace.

And then, without warning, silence absorbed everything and he was covered in his brother’s dust.

Far, far away, in the back of his mind, something was stirring.

He lifted his hands, the essence of his brother slipping through his fingers, adding to what already coated his clothes.

A devastating fire roared inside him with anguish, and that roar grew louder and louder until it rattled his skull, and his whole frame. 

He couldn’t breathe. He folded over, a hand on his chest as the other supported himself over the tile. He couldn’t breathe. His eye sockets pressed closed and he opened his mouth wide, but no sound escaped.

He couldn’t breathe.

He felt like his soul was collapsing in on itself.

And then he awoke with the sensation of falling, and the first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t. The second thing he noticed was the ceiling, and the third was the quiet murmur of Elli’s voice from above him.


	4. Partners In-Somnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I don’t really know what that means.” She said, and Sans felt his heart flutter a little. “I mean, I know what it _means_ , but I don’t know… I don’t know if I’ve ever been happy. I’ve always just kind of…. been.”_
> 
>  
> 
>  _After a moment of silence, he offered quietly that,"...Some times it’s okay to just_ be _.”_  
> 
> _And even though she tried really hard to be quiet, he could hear her faint, muffled sniffle._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two in one night?! What? Four AM, Pffft. >>
> 
> Really glad people are liking this though! :) At least I'm hopin' you all are! xD There's a lot of layers to this story, so prepare for feels! FEELS!

“You don’t sleep well either?” She asked from her perch, the area above the wall of shelves that sat beneath the elevated roof. Sans was sleeping on the lowest shelf, which pulled out into an extra futon bed, and from where he was, he could only see Elli’s leg dangling limply over the edge. Her socked foot twitched here and there a couple feet above him in the dim light.

For a moment, he contemplated not answering, and before he could make a decision, she spoke for him.

“Me either. I don’t remember the last time I slept well.” Her voice was quiet, and broke through gravel on some syllables, signs of staying up late and hardly using it. He wondered if she knew he was awake, or if she was just lonely and didn’t care if he was sleeping.

Not for the first time, he wondered how long he’d been asleep. He had tried waiting until he thought she had fallen asleep, for fairly obvious reasons, but must have slumbered off. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. But, he didn’t trust her…

“Nightmares.” He croaked softly. He wasn’t sure if he meant it as a question or as clarification, but he guessed it worked both ways. “Felt like I was falling.” There was a moment of silence, before she spoke.

“You know, they say that falling feeling comes from your mind attempting to jump start your heart because it thinks your dying. Like, if you stop breathing in your sleep?”

“Oh?” Is all he offered, letting that sink in. As a skeleton, it wasn’t necessary that he breathe, but he’d performed the action for so long, in an attempt to make himself feel normal, that _not_ being able to mimic the action at this point just made him feel unstable, like he was losing control. And that’s kind of what he’s always used it as, a way to keep himself in check. It had been far too long since he started treating his ‘breathing’ as though it were real. And at this point, all things considered, it might as well have been.

Especially after a dream like that.

“Who’s Papyrus?” And at that, he wished he really had pretended to be asleep, because he still wasn’t sure if he could trust this human. He wanted to be optimistic though. He really, _really_ wanted her to be one of the good ones.

“My little bro.” He said, “He doesn’t do well being alone. I feel like something bad is going to happen to him if I don’t find my way home soon.”

“Where is home?” She probed, and after a moment of not answering, she tried to put down his concerns. “Sorry. I’m just generally curious… you said you were a skeleton made of magic, and you’re obviously not from around here, so… “

“Underground.” He admitted, grimacing internally. “Monsters like me were casted out and imprisoned underground a long, long time ago. Do your people not talk about that?”

“Do yours?” She rolled a little and he saw a shadow of her face appear over the edge.

“Every day of our lives.” He said, and then added as an after thought, “For most of us.”

“That’s… sad.” She conceded, and he could tell she meant it. He had a pretty good ‘bullshit’ detector.

“So what _do_ your people talk about?” He inquired, mostly wanting to change the subject.

“Oh…” She looked annoyed and rolled her eyes. “Everything useless under the sun. Which is probably why nobody talks about the underground anymore.”

Made sense.

“I dunno. I’m not much of a people person.” She said, pursing her lips and not looking at him. Although she did smile a little and add, “That’s probably why I get along so well with a monster, I guess.” He grinned, but it dipped when she continued. “I don’t like that, the name ‘monster’. It’s demeaning.”

“How so?” He inquired. He knew what she meant, but he wanted to hear it from her.

“Because of what it means.” She looked a little incredulous. “It means something bad, and nasty. Something you generally want to avoid. _You_ don’t seem so bad, you’re not a monster… it’s like… false advertising.” He chuckled a little.

“Would you prefer I eat you?” He could see her grin through the shadows. “I’ll take it slow – take my time stripping the flesh from your bone, and then add them to my collection. I’ll observe them and clean them while I snack on your pancreas. That’s the real reason I’m here – to collect your organs.” It looked as though she had paled a little and he smirked.

“I’m joking.” And then quickly, “The hearts are much juicer.” She cowered a little behind her blanket and looked genuinely concerned, making Sans laugh.

“I really am joking.”

“I know.” But she didn’t sound totally sure, which made him laugh again. “Are all the monsters as nice as you are?”

“Some of them are nicer.” He admitted, his laughing gradually dying, “And some of them aren’t. But most of us are fairly friendly. We aren’t just made of magic, but also happiness… our souls are weaker than yours. Without something positive to keep us concrete, we start to fade away into nothingness.”

“That’s sad!” She whined. “Why are you so sad, stop being sad.” She threw a pillow down at him and he caught it with his hands and a laugh.

“It’s not sad. It’s just the way it is.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s not sad!” She pressed, and Sans chuckled at the look she was giving him.

“Okay, okay… fair enough.” The pillow rested on his midsection, his hands gripping at it as she spoke.

“Humans do the same thing, I think… only to a lesser degree. Our health on all levels will start to decline if we are too unhappy, but it usually happens super slowly… over time, and when you die, sometimes you never even realize that you started dying more and more rapidly forever ago.”

 _Huh._ He hadn’t known that.

“Are you happy?” And he wasn’t entirely sure why he asked. It was an odd question, even for him. And he wasn’t sure how to digest her silence. He watched her lean back, so everything was out of view except her leg again, and then she spoke.

“I don’t really know what that means.” Sans felt his heart flutter a little. “I mean, I know what it _means_ , but I don’t know… I don’t know if I’ve ever been happy. I’ve always just kind of…. been.”

They let the silence do some talking for a few minutes, before Sans asked quietly, “How old are you, Elli?”

“Fourteen.”

 _Damn…_ She was way too young to be this intuitive and this sad and this _broken_. Maybe broken was too strong of a word, though. Maybe she was just fraying at the edges. Maybe she was like him.

“How long have you been alone?” She had never told him this, so it was a stab in the dark, but he felt his instincts were usually pretty spot-on. They didn’t fail him this time.

“A few years.”

 _A few years? How?_ She continued before he could.

“You remind me a lot of someone I knew back then. You are so much like them, it’s kind of scary.”

“What happened to them?” He inquired gently, and he was kind of sorry he asked.

“He died.”

Man, this kid. She seemed way older than her age let on, and for a moment Sans considered the concept of ‘old souls’ and how exactly that would work. He firmly believed an ‘old soul’ was a real concept, he just wasn’t sure how to quantify it, or how to test it, since it’s a concept concerning both consciousness _and_ souls.

For monsters, it was simple. They didn’t die from old age, until usually long after reproducing, but some just never reproduce, and that would create an old soul, if they happened to survive long enough.

But for humans… humans didn’t have that… ‘luxury’. Not reproducing doesn’t excuse you from death when you’re a human. So how would ‘old soul’ theory apply? Genes? Level of intelligence? Could reincarnation be real?

 _Too many variables for_ He looked at the nearby clock. _Four in the morning._ He looked back up at the ceiling. _What else was new._

“Hey,” he said, lifting himself onto an elbow as she brought her face back over the edge to look at him. “You know, I _am_ a monster, kiddo.” She gave him one of those arched brow looks.

“It’s just a word. Like anything, the meaning you put behind it is what makes it what it is. The word ‘monster’ is just a fact. Just like you are a ‘human’. Or, that we live on a ‘planet’. Or your eyes are ‘blue’.” He noticed that she looked away from him, laying back down, and something told him she was blushing even though he couldn’t see it.

“I’m just sayin’. It’s only a word. It’s bad when you make it bad, and good when you make it good. And keep in mind that not everything needs to be ‘good’, to not be ‘bad’.” He added after a moment that, “Some times it’s okay to just _be_.”

And even though she tried really hard to be quiet, he could hear her faint, muffled sniffles.

So he tickled the bottom of her foot, and she freaked, pulling her leg up. When she leaned over to berate him, he hit her in the face with her pillow and she fell back in a fit of snorting laughter, clutching it, and Sans felt his heart flutter again.

He was growing to like this kid.

And he wasn't sure how he felt about it.


	5. A Punny for Your Thoughts?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If he was underground right now, he’d be slaying this kid, taking her soul, and helping Asgore break the barrier so he and his brother could be free.
> 
> If he was underground right now, he’d be in the room down the hall from his brother having nightmares and laying wide awake in bed, for hours and hours, alone.
> 
> If he was underground right now, he’d be bored out of his mind, manning the same sentry station he’d been watching over for _years_ , just to make Papyrus happy.
> 
> And he wondered, if Elli had fallen underground instead, would he still have given her a chance?
> 
> _Probably not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! This one is a little longer, and includes a little character backstory!

They hadn’t fallen back to sleep that night. They had fallen quiet many times, but one of them always started a conversation back up, and they talked about everything; everything useless under the sun, and some things not so useless. Sans would crack a bad joke every now and then, and she would laugh and respond with one of her own sometimes.

It was nice. He felt so relaxed.

He’d come to terms with the fact that he was on the Surface quite a while ago. Like, when he’d first met Elli, ago, but it hadn’t really sunk in until now, when they were sitting here talking about their lives and bantering every now and then.

She’d told him that her Father had been murdered, and that she was going to be forced to move back with her abusive, alcoholic mother, so she had run away instead.

“I’d only just gone to live with him a few months before.” She’d told him, “I’d lived with mom for so long because I had felt guilty. Even though I loved dad more, she was my mother. I didn’t know what I’d do without her. She was really all I’d ever known since she so rarely let me see dad.”

Sans stayed silent while she talked. He felt that maybe she’d been alone for so long, hiding these things, that what she really needed, was to just talk about them. He was okay with that, being lazy and just listening to her. The things she’d tell him mostly made him sad, but there were some things that made him proud of her.

Like the time she stood up to some kid from school for teasing her about her home situation.

“All the kids would call me ‘Little Orphan Elli’, and ‘Accident Fents’ because Joey did.”

“What’d you do?”

“I switched our textbooks and glued a bunch of dirty magazine pictures over the pages before switching them back. When he opened the book in class, he freaked, and the teacher sent him to the office when she saw why. Nobody believed that it wasn’t him.” 

This kid was _really_ something else.

She’d ask him questions about the underground, and maybe he was just tired, but he was starting to feel more and more comfortable with her the more they talked. Besides, she was just a kid. He was pretty sure she couldn’t hurt him.

He even, eventually, accepted her offer to join her on the top bunk. The mesh canopy roof above them let through gentle breezes that weren’t too cold, and allowed them to see the starry sky through the clear material.

“It reminds me of home.” Sans said as they pointed out different things, like a star shining more brightly than the others, or a shape they could make out ‘connecting the dots’. She looked at him in wonder and he explained, “We don’t have stars, but there are jewels and gems embedded in most of the underground’s ceiling. That is the ‘sky’ we see every moment of our lives. There are so many of them, that they give off light, and like night and day cycles, they dim due to surface temperatures.”

She found that fascinating, and wanted very badly to see it. Sans told her that maybe one day, he’d be able to show her, even though he was lying through his teeth. He knew he’d never be able to take her to the Underground, but somewhere deep down, he wondered if he ever could.

“So… you’re a scientist?” She started back up a little later.

“Yep. Well, I _was_. I still study science, but I don’t work as a scientist officially, anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Well, for the longest time, I worked under the Royal Scientist, and when he died, I refused the offer to take his work over and gave it to my coworker instead.”

“Wouldn’t you have liked that?”

“Eh,” He shrugged, “She deserved it, and appreciated it, a lot more than I would have.” That wasn’t entirely truthful. “Besides, too much work for a lazybones like me.” Nor was that.

“How did the old Royal Scientist die?”

“He, uh…” He hesitated a moment, wondering how much he should tell the kid on the matter of Gaster, and settled with something simple. “He just didn’t take his time on a project, and it backfired on him.” …good enough.

“What project?”

Dammit. Sans looked at her with a sinister, mischievous gleam.

“Taking the hearts of little children.” And funnily enough, that had been exactly the truth, and she just laughed it off, and Sans felt kind of bad.

If he was underground right now, he’d be slaying this kid, taking her soul, and helping Asgore break the barrier so he and his brother could be free.

If he was underground right now, he’d be in the room down the hall from his brother having nightmares and laying wide awake in bed , for hours and hours, alone.

If he was underground right now, he’d be bored out of his mind, manning the same sentry station he’d been watching over for _years_ , just to make Papyrus happy.

And he wondered, if Elli had fallen underground instead, would he still have given her a chance?

And he thought, _probably not_ , because he probably would have killed her pretty much on site, like he had the last five kids. And then he wondered what it would’ve been like if he had gotten to know each one of them like he was getting to know Elli now.

He quickly shut that thought down, and was so thankful for Elli’s distraction.

“So, I’m assuming the Royal Scientist works for somebody?”

“The king.” He said simply, and she gasped a little.

“Does that mean _you_ got to meet the king?” He smiled a little at her innocence. After leaving his position at the lab, he worked directly under Asgore, and would, almost every day, go enjoy a cup of tea in the Royal garden with him. Well, watch _Asgore_ enjoy a cup of tea and listen to him rant and rhapsodize about his flowers. But Sans had to work closely with Asgore because he was the King’s personal weapon. Nobody in the underground could do the things he did, as effectively as he did them. He was the one earning the monsters their freedom. Not Alphys. Not Undyne. It was him. But nobody could know that. He didn’t _want_ anybody to know that.

“Once or twice.” He said instead, and that seemed to be enough to please her.

They jumped into politics after that, and Sans stayed mostly mum on the topic. 

Elli, on the other hand, seemed to be very passionate about politics. She was a smart kid, and she was very cynical. She spoke of how politics from where she was from revolved around manipulation and bigotry that the people purposefully turned a blind eye to, and then split off into smaller groups as if they were rooting for their favorite team, like it was all just some kind of game.

“Instead of working together to make things better, we all worry about what everyone else is doing wrong, and only about our own wellbeing.” She quickly added, “Not that it’s wrong to care for yourself, there’s just a point when that’s all you do and it just doesn’t work when you live around other people.”

There wasn’t much to talk about on the Underground’s end, so he kept it short and sweet. The royal family consisted of mainly the Dreemur family heirs, but under certain circumstances, any monster could become ruler. The king was pretty laidback, and there weren’t many laws except those that were basically common courtesy and common sense. Anyone who decided to act out would be put down too quickly by everybody for them to cause too much dysfunction. Nobody wanted pain and anger. “All any of us ever want is to just be happy.” He said to her.

He also didn’t dare mention the Royal guard. He didn’t want her knowing that hunting humans was what he did for a living. Despite her obvious disdain for humanity, he wasn’t sure how she’d take it, with her father having been murdered and all.

And they had talked all night long.

And before they new it, it was early morning and the sunshine was bleeding through the windows of the camper onto their faces. Elli nudged him in the arm.

“Hey, Sans… Do you trust me?” And for a moment he didn’t answer as he looked at her, attempting to decipher her face, before she grinned and said, “I have an idea.”


	6. Falling Off The Fence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Really?_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _Really, really, really._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many kudos, comments, and views! Thank you guys so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying it!!! >8]
> 
> Longer! Kind of fluffy, but essential character relationship building. Also! About to go on a week long trip, but I will do my best to upload chapters while I'm gone. BD

This was such a horrible, terribly bad, insane idea, and Sans hated himself for agreeing to it, but at the same time, he wanted to make her happy. Somewhere inside him, the logical part of his mind was warning him that if he kept this up, she was going to be the end of him. He needed to be keeping out of sight, away from everyone except Elli, while he figured out a way to get home.

 _Not_ going with her to some surface diner to get breakfast.

He was so on-edge, his magic caused a tingling in his bones. But he didn’t let it be known that he was as nervous as he was.

She took them up the back way at least. When they’d left the junkyard, she’d taken them through a forest that dumped them out in a long, inclining field, lined by trees and underbrush. A small building at the top of the hill stuck out noticeably, considering it was the only building on the road for miles. Elli kept them close to the tree line as they made their way towards the diner, and they quietly talked about things like what to expect and Sans’ concerns, so Elli was more aware of how serious the situation was.

“It’ll be okay.” She reassured him. “This is a safe place, I promise.” 

That didn’t make him feel much better, but it _did_ make him feel better. He still pulled his hood up to create a shadow over his skull. If Sans had had nerve endings, every one of them would be on fire with the angst he felt burning at the core of his soul.

When they reached the building, she took him around to the front and they walked through the door that jingled upon their entrance. Despite his feign calmness, it had caused Sans’ heart to nearly leap through his ribs at the thought of his arrival being announced. But when they were through the door, and it swung closed behind him, he realized nobody had even batted an eye their way.

This was so unlike Grillby’s. Despite Sans being well known in Snowdin, everyone there was friendly to one another, even if it was just a stranger passing through. It was like an unspoken creed amongst the underground, or at least in Snowdin, that monsters made each other feel welcome.

Here, everyone just seemed completely absorbed in themselves, or the television in the corner. Mean, good for him, but… really?

He followed Elli over to a booth in the other far corner, and sat on the side opposite to her. However, this put his back to the rest of the restaurant, making him feel uncomfortable, and he was about to abject, when he realized she had done that so nobody would see his face, and he found himself silently praising her.

“They have ketchup here.” She whispered quietly, teasing him. He gave her a look that made her giggle under her breath. 

“Mornin’, George!” A loud, southern-accented voice bellowed from behind the counter and Sans snuck a tiny glance over his shoulder. There was a large, dark skinned woman pouring some disgruntled guy sitting at the counter some coffee. It sounded like he muttered the same greeting in response, like he was used to her ‘early bird’ attitude but didn’t have the energy to reciprocate fully.

The woman noticed their presence and started moving their way, and he whispered to Elli as he turned to face forward again.

“She’s coming this way…” But she just smiled.

“That’s just Big Momma Jean; everyone just calls her Momma. She owns the place.” The rotund woman swayed over to their table and placed a hand on her hip. Sans was simply trying his hardest to not show his face, without being rude, so he pretended to be obsessively intrigued with the menu in front of him.

Big Momma Jean’s voice was as loud and jubilant as the rest of her.

“Well, good mornin’ sweet child! I see you brought a guest to Momma’s today!” Sans was gripping the table, resisting the urge to shrink away from the large woman as her round cheeks and bright, happy eyes bored through his hoodie.

“Morning, Momma,” Elli said with a grin that hinted at her knowing how Sans was feeling. “This is Sans. He’s my friend from far away who’s come to visit me.”

Sans found himself feeling more than a little exposed and uncomfortable, but he lifted his eyes up to the woman just enough, and a boney hand waved ever so slightly. This whole situation made him feel so very, very vulnerable.

“…hello.” He said slowly with a nervous grin, and the big woman laughed heartily.

He resisted jumping out the window at the sharp cackling.

“Please, son, call me Momma!” He was pretty sure he hadn’t called her anything, but okay…

“H-hello, Momma.” His words felt foreign on his tongue; then again, all of this was strange and new. The woman’s request seemed to have contented her and her great big, cheeky smile was restored.

“Now what can I get you lovely babies on this fine, beautiful day?” She was looking at Sans and he startled, shaking his head. “Oh, uh... I’m not hungry... thank you.”

“I’ll take the usual, Momma.” Elli said, which caused the older woman to give her a smile.

“Nothin’ wrong with stickin’ to what you know, darlin’.” Then she turned her attention back to Sans with a wink before disappearing through the doors to the kitchen.

He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean.

“She’s a bit to take in, I know.” Elli said from across the table. Sans had to tear his eyes away from the doors leading into the kitchen to look at her. He couldn’t quite process how he was supposed to be reacting. He’d been told his whole life that humans were terrible, murderous creatures. And yet, Elli and Momma seemed so nice. That didn’t shake the caution he felt in his _bones_ , but he still wondered.

“Yeah… she seems nice enough, though.” He offered, unsure of what else to say. They fell into a small silence as Sans stared out the window. He observed with great interest the blue, blue sky and the warm, rippling sunlight, and the rolling fields of green grass and trees, and he noticed a bird that Elli had described as a hawk soar up and around and… and he felt strange. It was so different seeing this in person, being here. So different from the cold, dark, dank underground he was used to.

The underground he was comfortable with.

“Hey,” Elli called after a little bit. “ _Mayo_ pass me the menu?” She suddenly said, and Sans looked at her for a moment before his grin became fuller.

“ _Soy_ -ly,” He muttered, sliding the menu under his hands across the table. “I can _mustard_ the courage to do that much.”

“No need to be so _saucy_.” She retorted, muffling her laughter, and he chuckled.

“Sorry if I seem a little _sweet and sour_.”

“It’s okay. I greatly _relish_ in your presence, anyway.”

“Heh, how bar-b- _cute_.”

“That was so _cheesy_.”

“Why you gotta be so _chilli_?”

They couldn’t control their fits of giggles and chuckles as Big Momma returned, swinging an arm of food around.

“I see I have a couple of trouble makers over here!” She said, causing Elli to release the fit of giggles she’d been trying to detain. Big Momma used a free hand to slide a couple of plates in front of Elli and then placed a plate of food before him, with a quiet declaration of, “A growin’ boy needs his energy, now! It’s on the house. Always is for Elli and her friends.”

He was flattered, but at the same time….

“Thank you, Momma.” And the grin he gave her was genuine as she loped away to tend to customers at the counters.

The lights in his eyes locked onto Elli’s plate and, in all seriousness as she gave him a questioning expression, he said, “…what a _rad-dish_.”

She burst out laughing so hard – most likely from disbelief – that her food had almost grown cold by the time she was able to stop.

While she enjoyed her ‘goat cheese, spinach omelet’, Sans didn’t dare touch the breakfast-pecan pie that Momma had brought him.

Monster food was full of healing traits, whereas he didn’t know what was in surface food. Besides that, he was a skeleton, and didn’t _have_ to eat. But as a skeleton _monster_ , he would only have had to eat when he needed healing, or to taste his brother’s spaghetti when he made a new dish for him to try. Not that Sans ever needed healing. He never got hurt, and he was cautious for a very good reason; a reason nobody but his brother could ever know.

And he still didn’t trust Elli enough to tell her all this when she asked him why he wasn’t eating.

“Uh…” He lowered his voice, and broadened his grin, “I’m a skeleton… “ He said slowly, “I don’t need to eat.” And she looked, suddenly, like she felt stupid for not considering that. He looked that Big Momma was occupied before continuing, “Maybe you should take it for me, so I don’t offend Big Momma?”

And when she agreed, he quickly wrapped it up in some napkins for her to stuff in her bag.

“What about the ketchup?” She asked, and Sans looked at the bottle on the table before grinning wider.

“Hey, good call.” He grabbed the bottle and slipped it into his hoodie, and Elli just laughed.

“No, you bonehead!” She whispered fiercely. “You ate ketchup yesterday.”

“Oh, that.” He shrugged, “More of a habit.”

 _Like my breathing_ , he thought to himself, demanding his grin not to falter. Elli looked at him suspiciously and giggled as she shook her head and took another bite off her plate.

“I just like the taste, really.” He said honestly, becoming distracted by the view outside again. “My compliments to the condiments, right?” He watched the wind blow over the treetops, the clouds drifting lazily through the sky. “Ketchup, mustard, relish…” His voice drifted off and Elli attempted to keep his focus.

“So basically anything you can put on a ‘dog, right?”

He grinned and retorted, “Or a cat.” And that made her laugh a little, causing him to finally avert his gaze back to her. “How’s the unborn chicken?”

“Could use a little ketchup.” She said, wiping her mouth with a mischievous smile. “But we seem to be out.”

He huffed, mockingly, and rolled his eyes. “Who would _ever_ do such a thing?”

“A _monster_ , that’s for sure.” She claimed, making him chuckle. He knew she didn’t like ketchup, she had told him last night. He liked the fact that they could so easily poke fun at one another.

“So, uh…” Sans drummed his fingers against the table for a moment, hesitating, eye lights mesmerized by outside, again, before, “You know, kiddo. I had a great time with you last night... and... ” He wasn’t entirely sure how to say this without sounding like a jerk, and he almost felt the tension between them, the sorrow radiating from her, immediately. She was a smart kid. She knew what he was about to say.

So he didn’t say it.

“And I wanna make sure we have a lot more nights just like it.” He grinned at her, and her relief was so visible, it physically pained him. She smiled weakly, the anxiety of the moment passing over her.

“Really?” She sounded so quiet, so scared, so hopeful.

“Yeah, of course, kiddo.” And he feigned a confident grin for her.

“Really, really?” She asked again, teasingly, and he chuckled and leaned forward, his elbow on the table, chin in his hand. And despite the whirlwind of conflicting emotions wracking his heart, his voice was gentle and full of love.

“Really, really, really.”


	7. Every Cave Has A Darker Corner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Do you feel it, do you feel it?_   
>  _Do you feel that I can see your soul?_   
>  _Some days I'm built of metal, I can't be broken,_   
>  _But not when I'm with you._

Months passed.

And Sans hadn’t had a clue. 

He lost count of the days they spent together – eating at momma’s diner, exploring the forests, finding projects in the junkyard.

Momma surprisingly never asked questions, never looked at him like a demon, and there were always so few people at the diner during any part of the day that nobody ever noticed them. She was the only one to ever make them both feel so welcome, and she truly became a good friend to Sans.

After Elli had found out that monster souls were weaker than humans, she made him a body of armor out of metal and random tools and pieces she’d scavenged from junk cars. She spent weeks trying to hide it from him until it was done, and then when she finally gave it to him, they decided to make her one too, so that he could teach her how to protect herself. He’d found her a nice, sturdy stick and toy knife to start out with.

At some point, he’d made her a tiny glass heart out of pieces of various colored glass he’d found. She displayed it proudly above her bed, so that when the light hit the dangling trinket through the clear canopy, it created an array of colored patterns across the walls that danced.

He learned that she was a decent artist, and loved to draw, and she drew him pictures all the time of various things; sketches of birds, abstract paintings made mostly from clay and mud and the few oil paints she managed to find in places. All of them went up on the walls of the camper, their home, until you couldn’t even see the metal anymore.

They’d often break into a race through the junkyard, or the forest, and most of the time, he’d let her win, but sometimes he’d tease her and use his shortcuts to skip short distances, and appear right beside her. Those made her mad, but she always found a way to get back at him, like plugging the trombone she’d found for him full of flowers before he went to play it.

And as time went on, there was hardly a night where one of them didn’t end up in the other’s bed to comfort, hold, and coo away nightmares, and they found that they always slept best together, so the bottom bunk was hardly ever used anymore. Then there were some nights they simply stayed up all night talking, or plotting their next project, or fantasizing about adventures they’d never go on.

Before he knew it, years had passed.

And before he knew it, she had grown a good head taller than him, into a beautiful young woman who loved science, art and life, and he was so proud of her.

“Happy sweet sixteen, kiddo.” He offered her a neatly wrapped box that Big Momma Jean had helped him attain. Neither of them usually bothered with neat and tidy presents in the junkyard, but her birthday was special.

She had gasped, acting surprised, like she always did when he gave her gifts, and gingerly unwrapped the box. When she saw the red bow with little hearts embroidered into it, she got a little teary eyed and wore it as a bracelet and never took it off again.

The year after that, he’d found and fixed up an old polaroid camera for her, since she loved taking pictures. And she took _so many_ pictures, of damn near everything, but most of them were of them together, and every once in a while, he’d snap a few of her when she wasn’t looking and she’d get mad, but put them in their scrapbook anyway.

They’d turned the entire clearing around the camper into somewhat of a garden, where they’d managed to get some grass growing, and Elli loved building sculptures out of metal and debris she found around the junkyard. Sans had taught her how to make working lights out of light bulbs, wire, and batteries, and she’d ended up planting paper lanterns all around the area, so that even during the night, their creation was visible with a soft, golden glow.

The weather was nice most of the time, but their were some days and nights where it would simply rain havoc on the junkyard. The Camper was fairly capable of keeping the inside dry, even with the clear plastic canopy open, which let in the delicious scent of dew and gentle breezes that made all their worries go away. Not that they had many, anyway.

It was a simple, beautiful time in their lives, and Sans couldn’t have asked to be so lucky.

He was such a fragile monster, and she made him feel invincible. Like he couldn’t be broken.

She gave him a purpose that felt _good_.

Monsters who didn’t have offspring didn’t age, and could live a very long time. Sans, at least physically, didn’t change in the slightest because of this. And as Elli got older, and he watched her grow in so many ways, he came to realize this, and that these had been some of the best years of his life, and he never wanted them to end.

But they _had to_.

If not when Elli got older, and tired of him, or met other friends - or if they managed to be friends long enough, that Elli died before him of old age – then… then it would have to end _some_ way. Nothing lasted forever, no matter how much you wanted them to. There was no such thing as _‘forever’._ And he considered himself a realist, he knew this… and…

The more time that passed, the more he felt a tug on his soul to leave. And he had absolutely no idea where to, or how, but it had grown into more than just an idea; more than just a feeling. It had started effecting his every day life; started disrupting their peaceful days together.

And it _killed_ him inside when he realized he was spacing out, with that feeling pulling his mind far, far away, and he remembered she had been talking, and he hadn’t been listening, and that _look_ she would give him, because this hadn’t been the first, hadn’t been the second - or the third, or the fourth - time he’d done it.

She thought he was getting bored of her, and that couldn’t be further from the truth. But whenever he tried to talk to her about it, she’d change the subject.

She didn’t want him to tell her goodbye.

And that was only the beginning of the tension seeding between them.

Sans began to sleepwalk, when he was actually able to sleep. Sometimes he’d wake up on his own, somewhere in the woods, or in the field on the way to town, and other times, he’d stir awake wildly to find a fearful Elli cowering away from him because she had tried to stop him, and his magic had kindled inside, perceiving her as a threat.

She’d learned quickly not to wake him up. She followed him instead, keeping a safe distance, and would go to him when she noticed him coming to. But sometimes he’d use a shortcut in his sleep, and when he started doing that, she gave up completely.

He started sleeping in the bottom bunk most nights, to keep from waking her when she managed to sleep.

And he felt the distance growing between them more and more, and it seemed to be happening so fast, and he had no control over it, and it _killed him_.

It made his soul tremble with morose frustration.

_Nothing lasted forever._

And when her eighteenth birthday rolled around, and he couldn’t contain himself anymore, he tried his best to give her a day to remember, and that night, when he was absolutely sure she had fallen asleep, he left his last gift to her next to her pillow.

And he left. He ran away, like a coward. Because he needed to go home, but home was with _her_.

He _left_ her. Like he promised he’d never do. Like she promised him _she_ would never do, and she hadn’t. She most likely never would have.

And as patient as Sans was, he couldn’t bear that feeling anymore. He was going to turn to dust if he didn’t pursue this nagging inclination. It had probably already been too long that he’d been home, things would be so different, him leaving and hurting her would all be so useless. He had no idea what to expect, where to go from here.

And almost as soon as he set foot out of the junkyard without her, he felt his old, self-degrading, hopeless mentality return, and he missed her.

He slipped one of the photographs he’d taken from their scrapbook out of his pocket and looked it over as he trudged across the field towards the road behind Big Mamma’s diner.

She’d taken a ‘selfie’ with him dozing in a lawn chair in the background. Her smile was so wide, so mischievous, and her eyes were as bright as a sunny day sky, and she looked so, so happy. 

And a day wouldn’t pass where he didn’t miss her.


	8. All The Pain, None Of The Gain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Don’t think about it, don’t think about it - **just don’t think about it…**_  
>  And he thought about it.  
> About her. And about his brother.  
> And he felt like such complete and utter trash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back from vay-cay! Let's meet some new surface dwellers, shall we?

_Sans_

He responded with only a groan.

_”Sans…”_

_That… voice…_ He began to rustle awake.

“Sans?”

His eye sockets flicked open painfully to the light of day and he raised a boney hand to shade part of his face.

Elli was hovering above him, her familiar, matured jawline and grown, dangling hair crowning her face like a halo. She gave him that goofy look of hers.

“What are you doing out here, bonehead?”

“…what?” He asked groggily, moving to sit up towards her... but as he did, she faded into nothing.

And instead of the countless drawings and photos he expected to see on the walls of the camper, he saw the early morning fog crawling over a grassy park.

He felt his bones suddenly become heavy as led, but he still pulled himself out from under the giant slide that sat in the center of the playground. He brushed woodchips off his clothes and wiped the dew off his bones.

The park wasn’t big; it was surrounded by the dense forest he had stumbled through just last night, before collapsing - from what was more emotional fatigue than anything.

The park had been the first sign of civilization he’d come across since leaving the Junkyard and Momma’s Diner behind. He’d followed that road a good ten miles using the seemingly never-ending forest that paralleled it. The plan was to follow the path of the road from the safety of the trees, avoiding any straggler traffic, but he’d ended up getting caught up in his own head and hadn’t been paying attention, and then he had realized he was lost when he found the park, and could no longer see the road.

He’d fallen asleep damning his mind for the constant assault on his emotional well-being.

Then he was awake, glaring around the park as if it were the cause of his misery.

And trying not to think about her waking up to find him gone.

 _And now we do what?_ He asked himself bitterly, half-attempting to call on whatever idiotic notion inside him that insisted he leave his happiness behind.

He pocketed his gloved hands and exhaled through his nose hole. Then after a moment of summoning non-existent incentive, he started down the path he knew would lead to the park’s exit.

The big park gate was already open when he reached it, though it seemed like it never got closed anyway, since underbrush and vines were growing sporadically over it. He found that beyond it, there was a very small back road - more like an asphalt path, winding through the trees - so he nervously took it.

And as he reached the end of the asphalt path, he was greeted by another chain-link fence, this one with a gate. It surrounded a trampoline and above ground swimming pool in the small backyard of a big, two story house. 

Sans considered trying to push his way through the dense underbrush around the property to avoid it altogether, but he deemed that difficult and impassable. So, keeping his cool, he undid the metal latch of the gate and stepped cautiously into the yard.

He closed the metal barricade as quietly as possible, and he didn’t take more than three steps in before he heard something rustling somewhere in the yard, or maybe the trees. It made him flinch, but a quick glance around the area told him he was overeacting.

But then he heard it again, louder this time, and even though he twisted around casually to try and find the noise, he saw nothing. He arched a boney brow, glaring at nothing in particular, before he approached the back door. And he all but jumped out of his _skin_ and gaster blasted the source of the voice that spoke behind him when it appeared.

“Who are you?!” It said excitedly, and Sans felt his soul giving him good advice on shortcutting the hell out of there. But he didn’t, and he considered the realization that he had been making a bad habit of not listening to his instincts.

He turned around slowly, and had to look down to see the owner of the small voice.

“I’m Papier.” The boy said. He couldn’t have been very old, he was only a few feet off the ground, with baby blue eyes and a mess of blonde hair. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Are you… a zombie?”

Sans hesitated, but answered him slowly. “Uuh, I don’t… think so, kid.” Papier perked up a little, in curiosity, and was no longer concerned with secrecy as he spoke normally. 

“But you’re a skeleton. Skeleton’s can’t walk around without a body!” He seemed incredulous and Sans smiled dubiously.

“Well, you’re in luck, cuz I’m not just any skeleton.” Sans leaned forward a little, making him step back a few steps. He was humoring the kid as he whispered. “I’m a special kind of monster, made of magic.”

His jaw dropped, and he inhaled like Sans had given him the secrets to all of space and time.

“Magic? Can you make stuff appear and disappear out of nowhere?” Well, he wasn’t wrong. Sans chuckled unsurely, shrugging a shoulder.

“Kind of.”

“Whoa~” Was all he said, staring at Sans as though he would believe anything he told him from that point, and the skeleton was almost sure he would. He was definitely just a kid.

“Papier?” A new, distant voice rang, and Papier didn’t even hesitate to lunge at Sans, to push him in another direction.

“Behind the pool!” But his hands hit air because Sans was already gone. He seemed even more enthralled, his mouth wide in disbelief as the backdoor opened and a thin man, with dashingly similar looks to the kids, appeared in a blue uniform of some kind. “Papier, who are you talking to?”

The younger boy closed his mouth, pursed his lips, and turned to the much older, and taller, male with a crooked smile.

“I was just thinking of a joke, Avec! And I was practicing… wanna hear it?”

The man stood before the younger boy and put a hand on his hip with a grin.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I _do_ love your jokes, bro. Shoot.”

“Well, have you ever noticed that skeletons don’t fight? Do you know why?”

“Why?” Avec’s grin and voice had become nervous.

“They ain’t got the guts!” Papier said, barely containing his burst into laughter, and he was greeted by chuckles from the other male.

“That is a pretty good one, Pap.”

Meanwhile, from behind the pool, Sans felt his soul being strangled by self-hatred, and it took everything in him not to lose his head right then and there. His hood shadowed his face as he clutched the chest of his hoodie, trying to will the ache to subside.

“Okay, Pap,” Avec said, rustling the kid’s messy hair with a hand, “I just wanted to tell you I’m almost on my way to work, so I want you in the house. You know the drill.” The kid groaned a little.

“Yeah, okay. Five more minutes.”

“Sounds like a plan.” The older brother said, spinning and waltzing back into the house. And after a few moments of silence, Sans could hear Papier moving, looking for him. Sans had to pull himself together… _before_ the kid…

“Hey, Spooky Scary Skele-dude?” He was speaking lowly, “knock knock?” He offered, as he rounded the pool and suddenly came up on Sans, who was indifferently leaning against one of the steel support beams on the frame of the pool, hands in his pockets. He grinned at Papier, raising a boney brow.

“Who’s there?” And it made the kid smile a little, whispering fiercely. 

“You really _can_ make stuff disappear! How did you do that?” Sans shrugged a shoulder, closing his eye sockets for a moment.

“Magic.” The kid was beaming from ear to ear when Sans opened his eyes, and he felt it was dire for him to change the subject if he didn’t want to become a side attraction to this kid.

“I take it that was your brother?” The kid changed directions instantly, excitement lacing his words and filling his light bounces.

“Yeah! That was my brother, Avec. He’s cool. He’s a cop!” He exclaimed proudly, with one of the biggest, toothy grins Sans had ever seen on anyone’s face.

“Oh yeah? That’s cool… I used to be a cop, too.” Sans said quietly, and it all but blew the kid’s mind as he shook his head.

“Whoa! Is there anything you _can’t_ do?” And Sans thought about it for a moment, before grinning again, and looked at the kid.

“I have a really hard time getting up in the mornings.”

And the kid looked confused for a second, before asking, “Why?”, and he said calmly,

“Because imma lazy bones.” And the kid laughed and Sans felt his chest ache again, but he didn’t falter on the surface at all. “So, I have a favor to ask you, kid.” And Papier looked at him expectantly, willing to do anything for this creature that broke every normal minute of every normal day of his normal routine life, and Sans knew it.

“Well,” He continued, eye lights searching other places to focus on, “I need a couple of things, and one of them is letting me walk through your house so I can get around it. The woods are too thick to walk through.”

And Papier looked thoughtful for a moment, before asking, “But you can… you can teleport.” He said, remembering the word, and he looked at Sans for an explanation. The skeleton nodded.

“You’re right, I can. But I can only teleport to places I can imagine the path to. I’ve never been here before; I don’t know what the other side of your house will look like, or anything. I could teleport to the pool because it was only a few feet away from me, I could see it. I can envision the area. Make sense?” And Papier was nodding slowly.

“Cool.” He uttered, and Sans chuckled. “What else do you need?”

“A map, if you have one.”

“Maybe.” The kid said, “I don’t mind looking.”

“Papier!” Avec’s voice called from the back door, and the kid flinched.

“Shoot. I’ll wait until my brother leaves, and then come out and get you. I’ll be back!” He whispered, before running out to greet his brother. “Sorry, Avec…” 

“You sure are a troublemaker, aren’t you…” Avec said teasingly, and Papier was giggling as the door began to shut behind them.

Their voices grew distant, and Sans exhaled heavily, boney hands rubbing at his closed eye sockets.

_Don’t think about it, don’t think about it - **just don’t think about it…**_

And he thought about it.

About her. And about his brother.

And he felt like such complete and utter trash.

He groaned under his breath, feeling tired, and swore that somewhere deep down, he just liked making himself miserable, tormented, and restless.

He also swore he wasn’t going to do the same thing with this kid that he had done with _her_. That would definitely break him. Doing that again would definitely turn him into dust. 

But part of him wondered how much of a bad thing that would actually be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this one felt a little rushed! I'm excited for the story to progress so we can get into the more jucier chapters! :D


	9. Hook, Line, and Femur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans really didn’t want to be here. 
> 
> “Did… did you just make a skeleton pun?”
> 
> He was barely keeping himself together,
> 
> “Three - to be exact.”
> 
> He was exhausted,
> 
> “And you’re really a monster made of magic?”
> 
> And he felt his mind becoming more and more erratic the more time he wasted jumping through hoops to progress.
> 
> “Skeleton’s honor.” Sans said, and he grinned, because he felt himself closer to his goal. "I don't _fibula_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a housing layout, I made this quickly! :] Feel free to use it as a reference!  
> http://orig03.deviantart.net/8df8/f/2016/106/3/c/avec_s_house_by_elli_leimone-d9z6eio.jpg
> 
> I can't thank you guys enough for your support. Some of you may not realize how encouraging they are, but all of your comments and kudos really keep this story going! They are crucial! And who knows... you may be one of the lucky ones to impact the story a little~! ;}

Outside, the house had looked old and worn, and on the inside, everything looked like your average, modernized home, but looked kind of dark and foreboding with only overcast sunlight shining through the many windows. It seemed aged, like someone had stopped taking care of it years ago, but they were still trying, without incentive to.

The back door led immediately into the kitchen and dining nook area. As Papier turned on a floor lamp in the big living room beyond, Sans was greeted near the counter by a fat tabby cat, who reacted poorly to his company.

The cat arched its back, fur standing on end and flicking the tip of his erected tail defensively. It hissed, revealing deadly fangs, and Sans, unfazed, couldn't quite figure out why animals on the surface seemed to have such a problem with him.

Papier came up from behind and scooped the cat up in his arms swiftly, hugging and squeezing him close as he cooed and rocked the feline, who calmed instantly. Granted, it was in a "what in the name of all that is holy are you doing??" kind of way, but it was effective.

Papier looked at him apologetically.

"Sorry, Garfield can be real feisty sometimes. He only ever leaves his bed to eat, and when he does, he’s always a jerk. My brother says hes… he’s ‘vo-la-tile’?” He said the word with a sense of unfamiliarity and Sans chuckled half-heartedly.

“I know how that is, I had a ‘volatile’ pet, too, once.”

And then Papier swung the cat down, urging him in another direction of the house, away from them, and the cat didn't hesitate to scamper away down a pitch black hallway to, Sans assumed, find a corner of the house to groom itself in.

“So, kid…” Sans encouraged quietly, “I hate _tibia_ burden, but about that map…”

“Oh yeah!” He exclaimed, the pun obviously going over his head. “It’d probably be in the library!” But then he looked towards the dark hall as if something occurred to him. “Um, if it’s not, then it’s gonna be in the study, and my brother keeps it locked most of the time…”

Sans groaned inwardly, but kept his calm, collected façade in place as he grinned at the kid. “Whelp, I guess we’d better check out the library.” And Papier grinned as if he was going on an adventure as he started down the hall.

Sans, on the other hand, really didn’t want to be here. He was barely keeping himself together, he was exhausted, and he felt his mind becoming more and more erratic the more time he wasted jumping through hoops to progress.

For, admittedly not the first time, he considered killing the kid. Then, at least, he could pillage and plunder this house without hindrance for useful resources so he could just _go_.

But some moral part of him said, _no_ , because that was _wrong_ , and Sans wondered what made him think he had a right to consider himself anything more than that anyway. Everything about him was _wrong_.

And even as he caught himself slipping deeper into his depression, he couldn’t stop it. Only _she_ could stop it.

. . .

He mentally kicked himself and refocused on the matter at hand.

As he followed Papier down the dark hall, the lights flicked on and Sans blinked away the sudden brightness. The long hall had two spaced out doors on the left, a set of steps leading upstairs and a foyer for the front door on the right. Then, all the way at the end, there was a set of large, double doors with broad glass windows inlaid. Considering Papier was making his way into that last room, Sans assumed, and hoped, it was the library.

“You have a nice home.” He said quietly, attempting to distract his mind as the kid opened the double doors.

“It used to be nicer.” Papier said, waltzing inside and feeling for the switch. Sans became genuinely interested in what the kid had said, however the now illuminated room caught him off-guard. He took a few steps forward, acknowledging the pristine hardwood floor, and then let his eyes wander the space.

Besides the fact that the room was ginormous, with a vast, silver chandelier hanging in the center of the ceiling and a small cluster of various sofas and chairs directly underneath, the walls were literally shelves of books, from floor to ceiling and seemingly custom designed to fit around the tall, mostly curtained windows that also lined the walls. Each towering shelf even had its own cliché, rolling ladder.

 _How quaint_ , he mocked, although he knew he was just bitter and was at least a little impressed with the number of books there were, because there were _a lot of books_.

He also saw the sleek, obsidian grand piano in the corner, covered in a thick layer of dust, and it immediately reminded him of the smaller one Undyne had in her home. He’d never seen her play, but sometimes when he’d drop by for a visit, he’d hear her. She was surprisingly good.

But he wasn’t underground. He was here. 

Wherever the hell _here_ was.

Remembering the map, he looked at the kid expectantly, who seemed to be watching him in curiosity, and Sans suddenly felt exposed. He gave him a gentle look to ask, ‘what’s up?’, and the kid began to look a little nervous, looking down and twiddling his fingers. 

That was kind of a first, that Sans had seen, so he turned towards him and spoke with considerate reassurance.

“Go ahead. Say it.” And Papier lowered his head, but lifted his eyes to the skeleton before opening his mouth to speak.

“Pap?” A voice called from the hall, and the front door slammed shut, and both of them suddenly became very aware… “Sorry to come back so soon, I forgot to-“ …that Avec was there at the entrance to the library before Sans could even consider teleporting away.

There was silence, and Sans felt his magic buzzing to life deep within him, because _screw this_ , things weren’t about to go _even more sideways_ for Sans just because of two lo-

"Papier..." Avec said, growing pale with wide eyes and tight lips, "Is... Please tell me that is one of your friends in a Halloween costume."

"No, that's Sans." Papier said candidly, swinging his hands behind his back. "Sans the skeleton." His brother took a moment to nod and inhale slowly, never taking his eyes of ‘Sans the Skeleton’.

"Who is a friend, dressed in a Halloween costume."

He was trying.

"No..." Papier was very calm for a kid his age as he handled his brother, pursing his lips a little as he looked between the two of them. "Sans is a monster, from deep underground. He's trying to find his way home, so I'm helping him."

“Oh?” Avec couldn’t seem to easily conjure more words, but he choked them out anyway, his voice strained with uncertainty. “How responsible and commendable of you.”

Sans had been looking at Papier, but he now looked over and up to Avec, and he smothered his magic in an almost painful rush of guilt, and gave the shocked and, now, speechless male a somewhat nervous, crooked grin.

“Avec,” Sans started gently, and the older brother didn’t seem sure how to take that he knew his name, but Sans continued anyway, “I know this is a little freaky… Please, I _ulna_ need a map, if you have one, and then you can be as _sternum_ as you want, because I’ll be leaving anyway. I don’t have a _bone_ to pick with you, I just need help.”

And there was a long, long silence as Avec, just now, leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the entrance for stability. And he opened his mouth, stayed silent for a moment longer, and then finally shook his head in disbelief. “Did… did you just make a skeleton pun?”

“Three - to be exact.” Sans said, forcing a grin. Then he shrugged his shoulders slightly. “I really just need help, and then I’ll move on, and you’ll never see me again.”

The look Papier turned to give him didn’t escape his view, but he ignored it, focusing on Avec, as the older male raised a hand to grope at his face, rubbing around his eyes and down his nose slowly.

And then he inhaled deeply, letting it out in a deep sigh. He pushed off the wall to stand straight, putting his hands on his hips, and he looked at Sans seriously for a moment before asking, simply, “So, you’re really a monster made of magic?”

 _Finally~!!_.

“Skeleton’s honor.” Sans said, grinning at his triumph, “I wouldn’t _fibula_.”

_Hook, line, and femur._

Also, make that _five_ puns. He was on a roll.


	10. Self-Deprecation Before The Storm. And During. And Probably After.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things just _weren't_ going his way. Like, _at all_. And part of him just wanted to bash his skull into dust and be done with it.
> 
> On the bright side, now he has a cell phone! A cell phone to call all those surface dweller friends he definitely doesn't have.
> 
> Yay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that chapter title is long.... but I couldn't resist, lol
> 
> I know these last few chapters have seemed a little slow, but I promise that they'll be picking up from his point! Things are about to get very interesting for our Sansy Boy in the next chapter!

"You could've just used my computer to print a map out, Paps." Said Avec, and the younger boy blushed a little, making a face that said he hadn't thought of that.

"Oh yeah..." He muttered.

"Why don't you go turn my computer on, while I call into work. I'm obviously not going in today."

"Okay..." Paps said, and Avec ruffled his hair as he walked past to walk down the hall toward the stairs. Avec turned his attention to Sans once his brother was gone, and was still very obviously not sure what to think of the situation.

"Uhh, make yourself at home... I guess. I'll be right back." And he left the room, to go make his call, Sans assumed.

The skeleton balanced on his heels for a moment, looking around the room again, and his eyes wandered across the countless books along the walls and shelves. He felt like he was in a cocoon of knowledge. It was somewhat comforting.

He started walking the room, a boney finger trailing across the spines of books as he read their titles, leaving a clean trail through the thick layer of dust. Most of them were encyclopedias and other ‘essentials’ for a big library like this.

There was another set of hardwood doors set in the wall. Part of him thought of cracking a door to peak inside, but he noticed there was dust layering those, too. Why was this part of the house so abandoned?

As he moved down the row of enormous bookcases, he noticed some shelves didn't have books, but rather knick-knacks and trinkets. This one, for example, had a golden trimmed, burgundy box that started playing a melody when he lifted the lid just slightly. He closed it immediately, not wanting the brothers to hear, and focused instead on the framed photograph resting beside the music box.

It was of an older woman, and Sans immediately could tell she was related to the boys somehow, with her similar facial traits, smokey blue eyes, and graying, golden hair. Her smile could break down walls, Sans thought, noting that even from just a photograph - more than beauty - she radiated power and respect. The photo cut off at her chest, but the shoulders and collar of her clothes made it seem like she was wearing a lab coat. Sans wondered what kind of a doctor or a scientist she was, before also realizing that the photograph seemed to be the only thing in the room that wasn't dusty. The markings on the shelf under the frame even proved that it was moved often.

Sans assumed she was somebody important, not just to the brothers, and then moved on.

He noticed books on geology, astronomy, biology, and countless other fields of science. However, what seemed to top all of them were the number of books and reports on psychology and the workings of the brain, proven and otherwise. A good number of books and binders focused specifically on studies of consciousness, and Sans wondered if the woman was in fact a scientist like he had once been.

He reached the piano, and he was sure not to touch it as he rounded it, observing its abandoned beauty. He stamped out memories of Undyne again, which would leads to thoughts about his brother, that _he_ had abandoned, which would then obviously start making him think about-

He tore his gaze away from the piano and walked until he was back where he started, now with typical empty and dark thoughts.

Thankfully, Avec returned to distract him, loosening the collar of his policeman's uniform as he stopped in the doorway and smiled uneasily at his guest. He sucked in a deep breath and exhaled, a hand running across the back of his head, through his short dirty blonde hair, as he contemplated something.

Sans, meanwhile, simply stood there with his hands in his pockets grinning, lazily, skillfully hiding the whirlwind inside him that made him feel more and more trapped the longer he did _nothing_. In order to distract them both, Sans asked casually.

"So, who plays?" And Avec was unsure for a moment, before realizing Sans meant the piano, and he said, "Oh... Uh... My mom. Our... Mom."

He corrected, as Paps walked back into the room, and the younger brother added, "Avec plays, too."

"Uhhh, no... No, I don't; not anymore." He gave Papier a look when the kid grinned innocently and countered him.

"I think you mean, you don't anymore… unless you think I'm not home."

“No. Actually, I mean I don’t play.” And Avec actually looked a little irritated, causing Papier to back off. Sans tried to act like he hadn’t noticed. He wondered why it was such a big deal that Avec 'didn't play’. He also wondered if their mother was the woman in the picture he'd seen minutes ago and if she was dead. Most likely, but he was honestly more concerned with getting the hell out of there at the moment than the brothers and their story.

Thankfully, Avec redirected their focus for him.

"Why don't we go get Sans that map." And he turned for the hall, Sans and Papier following behind respectively.

The upstairs seemed to mimic the downstairs almost exactly. The steps came out at the very end of the hall, and there was a door both directly ahead and to the left. To the right, at the end of the hall, there were three more doors, and Avec led them down the hall to those while he spoke.

“Straight ahead is Paps room, and to the right there is a bathroom you can… use, if you… do that kind of thing.” He finished awkwardly, looking at Sans as if just remembering he was a skeleton. Then he pushed open the last door to enter. “And this is my room.”

It was a simple room. There was a dresser and a bookshelf along the left wall, a bed against the right wall, and on the other side of the room, a desk that sat under a big window. On it was a computer more modern than any the Underground had, and a printer. The monitor was lit up to a home screen. Avec sat in the chair and started pulling windows up, but not before Sans saw the brothers and that woman again, laughing together in a photograph set as the background on the screen.

Papier was hovering over his brother’s shoulder as he watched. Sans walked up to stand on the other side of Avec, but before he could see anything, the screen began to glitch and sprout static.

“Whoa, what?” Avec pressed a few keys, and after a moment, it stopped acting out. “Weird… I hope that’s just the weather…” He said, concerned, before getting back on track. “Anyway… Sans, where is ‘home’?”

Sans considered, quietly, how much he should tell the brothers. How would he explain is random appearance in the mountain years ago? He didn’t want to tell them about _her_ , and he didn’t want them to know how diverse his magic was in case they perceived him as a threat. He could just play dumb… “Under a mountain. We call it Mt. Ebott.”

“Mt. Ebott?” Avec said, chewing the word over as he looked it up on the computer. After a few minutes of Sans watching him find no results, Avec spoke quietly. “Nah, nothin. Is there anything else you can tell me about the place?”

“I’ve never seen it from the surface, so I don’t know what it looks like. So.. Uh…” Internally, Sans was growing frustrated. He hadn’t considered the surface would’ve changed the mountain’s name since hundreds of years ago, even though it was a reasonable possibility.

“Well, it’s a long shot since I don’t know how you got here, but there’s a mountain near here in the national park reserve.” He was most likely talking about the mountain Sans had originally woken up on, near the junkyard, and he had to fight himself to stay on topic.

“I’ve looked into that one, and unfortunately it’s not it.” Sans stared at the computer screen, looking over the ridiculous results that popped up from Avec’s last search. The internet was a weird, nonsensical place... 

Part of Sans wished he’d gained more information about the surface during the years since he’d been here. And just as he was about to ask Avec if he may borrow the computer himself, there was a distant rumble that interrupted them, and they all looked up towards the window to see a darkened, gloomy sky outside. Avec cursed under his breath.

“Well… there’s that storm we’ve been hearing about.”

A sudden explosion of thunder shook the house and everybody got low for a moment. Almost immediately after, the electricity went out and everything grew very, very dark. Except Sans’ magic had ignited instinctively, illuminating his left eye, as well as the entire room, and when he lifted his face, he saw the two, blue-lit faces of the brothers staring at him with wide eyes. Papier let out a small, ‘whoa’, and Sans extinguished his magic in irritation. Everything was fairly dark then, other than the faint light from outside, which allowed just enough light into the room for them to vaguely see each other.

Surprisingly, neither of them questioned him. Or at least, Avec didn’t give Papier the chance to. “Paps, will you go get one of the emergency backpacks from downstairs?” And the younger brother didn’t hesitate to be useful.

“I can do that.” He said, before cautiously making his way out of the room, and Avec and Sans sat in somewhat of a silent deliberation as they watched one another in the dim light, lightening flashing outside before another rumble rolled in the distance. And after a moment, they seemed to come to a mutual understanding, even without sharing words. Sans wasn’t a danger to Papier, so there was no reason for Avec to be weary. Not that he had plans to hurt the younger brother, but Sans felt that he’d be in for a bad time if he ever did. And they were able to silently converse this. Avec didn’t know it, but monsters weren’t as strong as humans. This is one reason why Sans had been so careful up to this point not to meet to many of them. They would genuinely give him a difficult time if it came down to it.

Yet again, the sky rumbled outside and Avec nodded, looking anywhere but at Sans. 

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but... without power, I can’t print you out a map. We’ll have to get you one after the storm ends or, rather, whenever the power comes back on.”

And the realization that he’d be stuck here longer made Sans feel like he wanted to bash his skull into dust. But he put on a grin and shrugged. “Hey, I guess that just means I get to spend some more time getting to know the kid.”

“Really?” Papier said, appearing in the doorway with a big smile on his face and a backpack slung over his shoulder. Sans forced another smile.

“For sure, kiddo.”

Another bad rumble through the house, and everyone’s eyes looked out the window again, watching as the wind whipped the treetops to and fro like ragdolls. Debris was rolling across the backyard, split-second lightening illuminating the entire yard and forest right before another crackle. As the noise died off, Papier spoke with concern in his voice, moving into the room, closer to his brother.

“Avec… Is this going to be like the last one?”

“I dunno, Paps.” Avec’s brow was creased, but he put on a strong face for his little brother and put a hand on his back as he kneeled next to him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight by myself, though… think I could crash with you?” And the kid lit up, his worry quickly becoming brave.

“Yeah! We can build a fort to keep the storm out!”

“That sounds like a great idea, Paps.” And he looked up to Sans with a small smile. “Sans, you’re more than welcome to sleep here tonight. In fact, I must insist on it. You can have my room.”

“Appreciate it.” Sans said, watching as Avec took the backpack off Papier and started rummaging through it. He pulled out a flashlight and old cell phone and handed them over to Sans, who took them curiously.

“Just in case.” Avec said, “You never know when you’ll need to call someone.” Sans noticed he politely left out asking if there was even someone he’d have to call. He somewhat appreciated it, and stuffed the items in his hoodie.

“Thanks.” And then Avec pulled out another flashlight, flipping it on, and then swung the backpack up onto his shoulder, grabbing some clothes off the top of his dresser and urging Papier out of the room.

“If you need anything, Sans, we’re right next door. I’ll probably fix Pap some lunch in a little while, so, you’re more than welcome to join us.” And with that, he left the doorway, taking his light with him. Instead of the flashlight he’d been given, Sans conjured magic to his eyes and dimly lit the room, looking around but not really taking anything in. He was kind of at a loss, unsure of what to do. So he settled with asking himself what he’d be doing if this were his house.

He actually laughed a little; a sad, self-deprecating chuckle that died quickly.

And then he got comfy in the bed to take a nap.


	11. Every Nightmare Has a Silver Lining... and It's Waking up.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Dreams have silver linings, huh... Yeah, well... My only silver linings are when I'm awake, and even then...
> 
> Even then, they're still a dull grey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is kind of short! And I know it seems a little out of place, but all will come full circle eventually ^^

From the get-go, Sans' mind told him he was dreaming.

Before him in the dark room, an old computer screen stared back at him, just as blankly as he stared at it. And when he realized what he was doing, he calmly blinked a few times and ever so slightly shook his skull. He distractedly looked around him, and the room slowly became lit by the large luminescent lights above, registering movement.

And he realized in a bit of awe that he was wearing his old lab coat, and standing in the middle of a laboratory.. And not just any laboratory.

Gaster's lab. His personal lab.

The place Sans had called home for so many years.

He took lethargic steps away from the computer he'd been standing near, eyes searching the familiar, comforting place. And then he realized in his hands he held a clipboard with notes and a vial of pale red liquid. He stared at the fluid for a long, hard moment, and then he remembered what it was, and he thought, _...shit._

"Sans," The silky voice called, and Sans spun around to see Gaster approaching him, and his soul all but leapt from his chest. "Where are we this morning?"

But Sans was so distracted that Gaster was alive and right in front of him, and the fact that he looked the same; he looked exactly how he'd remembered him, in his smokey turtleneck sweater, and overcoat as dark as night. He was in the process of slipping on his own lab coat as he neared. And Sans had to remind himself that this wasn't real, that this was a dream.

"Sans?" Gaster gave him an odd look with his eye lights, before tentatively removing the vial from Sans' hands with great care. "You seem distracted. Are you ready for today?"

And like the well-practiced liar Sans was, he put on a grin and shrugged his shoulders.

"Just _rattlin'_ my noggin' about the experiment. Sorry, G. I'm ready to get to work."

"Good to hear." Gaster said, buttoning the last button of his coat, but he was only somewhat convinced as he turned away to take the vial over to a big machine against the wall. "And what did that rattling produce?" Gaster suddenly asked, and Sans inwardly cursed at himself, trying to recall some kind of excuse.

"Well," Sans stalled, following the doctor over to the machine. "I was thinking about... Consciousness." It was the first thing that came to him. "What if it needs consciousness to become stable?"

"An interesting theory." Gaster said, lifting a lid on the machine and slipping the vial into a small hole inside. "How would we test it?"

"We would need to find a way to extract consciousness like we did determination." He said, watching Gaster fiddle with the machine's knobs and turning it on. It began to whir to life, and Sans could imagine the vial spinning rapidly in its little hole. "I don't think it'll be the same, I think we would've noticed it if it was. Which means it's going to be more difficult because we have no idea what it looks or feels like." 

Gaster looked at him - amused by the idea, Sans could tell - and for a moment, thought he'd covered his boney ass, but then Gaster suggested something that made Sans falter. "What if instead of extracting it, we inject it into a living consciousness; one we know is in legitimate working condition?"

And if Gaster was suggesting what Sans thought he was, and he most certainly _was_ suggesting that, then.. That meant.

The machine came to a slow, whining stop, and Gaster went to remove the vial from its containment. Sans stuttered, "You're not... seriously suggesting we risk losing one of our only two subjects..."

 _Are you?_ And he wasn't entirely sure he wanted the answer, but Gaster gave it to him anyway as he admired the liquid determination with greed.

"Sometimes results require risks, Sans." And Sans stared at him for a long, unsure moment. He respected Gaster. He trusted his judgement.

However...

"It was just an idea, G. I don't know if it's a good idea to lose our only subject fit for testing."

"There will be more..." He said, and his voice had a tone of finality to it, like he'd made up his mind.

Sometimes Sans didn't know what to think about Gaster. Other times... He still didn't.

Then he suddenly reminded himself, that this was only a dream. And it was getting harder and harder to remind himself of that. Like he'd tell himself that it wasn't real, but it didn't mean anything. And even as he thought this, and wanted to scream at himself to wake up, he felt his mind drifting back into the present of the dream.

And he followed Gaster out of the research room, into the hall lined with reinforced, locked doors and one-way windows that peered into a handful of holding cells. Or, as Gaster often made sure to correct him, 'patient evaluation rooms'.

At the moment, the majority of them were empty. Except for the two at the very end. And as they neared them, Gaster ignored one and approached the one-way mirror on the right side. Sans moved to stand beside him, and he grudgingly lifted his eyes to observe the young girl in the cell, sitting curled up in the corner on the bunk bed hugging the wall.

She was trembling. She had stopped crying a while ago. Sans assumed the next stage of her more emotional imprisonment would be rage, like all the others. But she was still too new to be mad; too scared. They hadn't played with her enough for her to be foolish yet. She may even be far too young to understand she should be furious.

He and Gaster watched as her sudden, but heavy, sluggish movements revealed a pair of ballet shoes to match the old tutu she wore.

"You let it keep those?" Gaster asked, as if just realizing what they were in what seemed like a mixture of curiosity and irritation, and Sans kept his eyes on her as he replied calmly, but with a candid tone.

"It's not like I couldn't stop her from usin' em, G. It wasn't that hard to begin with."

"There's no reason to let it keep equipment as a patient here."

"It's more than equipment, I think. They're concrete. Something she knows, something stable and familiar."

"Even more reason _lt_ shouldn't have it." Gaster concluded, emphasizing his detachment and looking at him. "You can't let your emotions get in the way of progression, Sans." And the skeleton looked at the doctor with an arched brow.

"Come on, Gaster. You know me better than that." And he let his eye lights fall back onto the young girl as she suddenly started crying again. Something inside him hardened a little. Maybe pride - stubborn pride - that refused to be told it was inadequate for a job. "If she becomes too mentally unstable, it'll effect her soul. We don't want her turning into that first case."

And Gaster was considerate for a moment, before he began to slowly nod his head in agreement. After a short bout of silence, Gaster admitted quietly.

"Maybe it wasn't a bad idea." He turned away from the mirror partly before stopping, speaking in afterthought, "Just keep an eye on it. It's starting to look unstable, and we don't yet know what it's capable of. It may try to hurt itself." And he walked away. Sans was having a difficult time taking his eyes off the young girl, as she clawed at her tutu and wept, dropping her head back against the concrete wall with her face drowning in tears.

"There's a storm coming." Gaster said, eyeing him from down the hall a little ways, and Sans faltered as he turned to look at him in confusion.

"...A sto-?" Sans winced as a small throbbing pain lanced through it and he raised a hand to his head.

 _Wait..._ The pain ricocheted through his skull harder this time and he squinted his eyes closed.

 _Wasn't I.._. there was something he was supposed to remember, wasn't there?

"Sans?" Gaster asked, and Sans had to take a minute to compose himself.

"I, uh... I..." He couldn't shake the jackhammer in his skull and he pressed his palms into his eye sockets. There was something he was supposed to remember about all this...

"Sans... you should leave."

"Naw," But his voice was tight, strained. "I'm good, G..."

"It'd be best if you left. It's good to stay consistent." And Sans suddenly felt the exact opposite of 'good'.

"Sans," And Gaster's voice had changed. "Sans..."

And it was changing more.

"Sans...!"

Becoming the voice of a broken, abandoned girl weeping his name. And when he uncovered his eyes, he saw Elli in the middle of their garden in the Junkyard on her knees, in soggy clothes and in the middle of a horrible storm, that shook their camper and all of her metal sculptures until everything from the grass to the mounds of garbage surrounding their home shook and crumbled into nothingness, falling victim to the outlandish cyclone that erupted from the mountain.

And the little girl, that he admired and adored, wailed and reached for him with pleading eyes, before the storm whipped her up in a gale as he reached back for her, before she became dust to the wind and blew right through him.

 

And he awoke with such a start at the simultaneous explosion of thunder, that he broke his flashlight when he hit the floor.


	12. Les Misérables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These brothers were something else. He appreciated them and their quips at one another. It made him miss Papyrus, with a renewed ache. And yet he just promised this kid that he'd always be there for him...
> 
> He was such a bad monster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I realize the chapters with the brothers are going by a little slow, but there is a reason for the slowness, besides character and relationship building, I promise!
> 
> I also apologize in advance of this chapter feels a little choppy, or if there are errors. I've been SUPER busy x-x but no worries! You will still get your chapters! :D

"Sorry." Sans muttered for the umpteenth time as Avec sat at the kitchen counter fixing the flashlight he'd broken. The male just laughed under his breath and waved him off.

"It's fine, Sans. It's just a flashlight. We can get another if we have to."

Outside the storm howled ominously.

"We can just use Sans as a flashlight..." Papier said helpfully, with a mouthful of cereal as he kicked his feet and sat next to his brother on a stool. Sans chuckled a little.

"Call me for all your  _sans_ light problems." And the pun went right over the kids head, but Avec snickered, and Sans grinned, and he felt... okay.

Shaken up, but okay, oddly enough.

His thoughts still wandered to _her_ , because he had the need to know if she was okay, but he wasn't sure how to go about finding out quietly. He felt selfish and negligent for not considering how the storm would've been effecting her, especially all by herself in the junkyard and in that small, little camper. He should've been there for her from the start, he should've never left her, and he should be making her smile right now... and these guilt-ridden nightmares told him as much.

And he felt himself quickly becoming _not_ okay.

"Avec," Sans started quietly, and the man immediately gave Sans his attention, lifting his eyes from the disembowled flashlight. "I realize the power is out, but Is there any way to learn about the storm while we're trapped in it?" And the male nodded slightly.

"My phone's barely keeping signal right now, but I don't mind trying to call my department. They should have backup generators that keep the building online, that way emergency trips can be made. If _someone_ hadn't lost the radio, we could use that, but..." He gave his little brother a look and Papier pretended very hard that the granite counter top was more interesting as he took another bite of cereal. And after a moment, Avec asked politely, "What exactly would you like to know? I mean, obviously besides when it might end." He chuckled a little, and Sans forced a grin, anxiety gripping him.

"Just where all it's hitting and how bad it actually is." And Avec nodded.

"Not a problem." He pulled his phone from his pocket and set it on the counter, staring at the screen for a moment before shaking his head. "I'll make the call as soon as I have bars."

"I appreciate it." Sans said, eye lights falling away from the brothers now as Avec gave his attention back to the flashlight. Sans needed to distract himself, before degradation became his mantra.

"Awwww..." Papier suddenly groaned over his empty cereal bowl and put on an over dramatic sad face as he looked at his brother. "I'm gonna miss class tomorrow..."

Avec smiled a little, screwing something inside the flashlight back in place.

"I think you'll live." He said, and Papier leaned against him, clawing at his jacket in mock terror.

"But what if I forget everything I learned? What if I can't protect us from all the evil baddies like Cobra and the Green Goblin?" His brother laughed, and Sans couldn't help but smile, even though he hadn't the slightest clue what they were talking about.

"An orange belt doesn't forget everything he learned just because he misses one karate class." And Papier rested his head limply against his brother's shoulder, balancing the stool on two legs to reach him.

"Oh, woe is the brave, oppressed  hero."

"You're gonna be the fallen, oppressed hero if you don't put that stool down." Avec said casually, and Papier grinned, leaning away from his brother to sit correctly on the stool. "And if you're gonna keep attempting liberal quotes from oppression movies, no more _Les Miserables_ for you." And Papier looked aghast.

"You would... take my freedom?? My freedom to watch whatever I want, when I want to? We are in America! Land of the free, home of the brave, the-"

"Alright, Hugh Jackman."

And Papier puffed out his chest.

"That's _Jean Valjean_ to you, sir."

"Okay...." Avec said, rolling his head and his grin towards his little brother. "Seriously? No more French epic musicals for you." And Papier hopped off the stool with an ear-to-ear grin.

"That's fine... I'll just read the book." And then he skipped down the hallway before Avec could forbid that, too.

 Avec watched him go as a quiet rumble of thunder exploded in the distance, then he laughed and pulled his gaze around to Sans with a crooked grin. "Little brothers." He said simply, as if baffled, and Sans laughed a little, too.

"I have one, too." He said quietly, a sadness overwhelming him as he thought about Papyrus."He's a little older than yours, and also likes to train. But his favorite thing to do though is cook, even though he's not very good at it, yet."

"What's he cook?" Avec asked with interest, giving him his complete attention and Sans sighed softly, his grin widening.

"Spaghetti... everything that is, and isn't, spaghetti." He chuckled, rolling his eye lights. "He calls himself the 'Great Chef Papyrus', and none of us have the heart to tell him that his food is in- _pasta_ -ble to eat." Avec laughed a little, nodding.

"Papier likes to call himself the Karate Bugatti... I think he may just do that because it rhymes though, because a Bugatti is a sports car and that has nothing at all to do with karate." And they both laughed together for a moment, before Avec continued. "We put up with them because we love them, though."

"More than anything." Sans said, biting his words as something in his soul told him he was a selfish liar and he deserved to burn in hell for his negligence. He could hardly pretend the guilt in his chest didn't exist, and Avec seemed to pick up on the mood change within the silence that had surrounded them. So he added, genuinely,

"We'll find a way to get you home, Sans. I promise." And the lights in Sans eyes focused on the human male with more hope than he could bare, and he briefly wondered to himself whether or not humans were actually as bad as the legends and stories said. There had to be bad ones, everything and everyone can't be good all the time. But he truly didn't think these brothers were the bad ones, which calmed his anxious heart just a little.

 _Just_ a little.

"Your efforts mean more to me than you could imagine, buddy." And he meant it.

Yet, part of him also briefly wondered if he even wanted to go home. He was afraid of everything that may have changed. He didn't want to stay here either, though. He didn't really want to be anywhere. Why couldn't he just stop being for a while? Just a break. A chance to relax his whirlwind mind and cringing soul.

The storm howled outside as if to encourage the ache.

"Sans!!" Papier yelled from down the darkened hallway, and he busted from the shadow with a pair of big, gloved hands, a bandana around his hair, and an orange belt around his waist. He stopped a foot in front of the skeleton and, with all seriousness, requested training from the monster. Sans arched an eyebone and grinned at the kid.

"You want me to train you?" And with a ferverent nod from the kid, Sans chuckled, and said, "Okay... But I have some rules."

"Anything, Sensei!"

"First rule, call me _San_ sei.

And the kid laughed, as from outside, the storm cackled with him.

"Second rule-"

"We do not speak about fight club!" Papier said, and Avec laughed from his place on the stool, keeping his focus on the flashlight, but he muttered that it was a movie reference and Sans grinned and moved on.

"Third rule, I won't go easy on you just cuz you're a kid, kid." And Papier hesitated before asking quietly.

"Was.... Was that a rule?" And Sans just grinned in response.

"Fourth rule... well... As long as you don't give up, I will always try and be there to help you." And for a moment, all the overplayed bravery that Papier had been showing melted away into something a little sad and hopeful. His words were quiet, unsure.

"Do you mean that, Sans?" And the monster put a hand on the kids shoulder and leaned towards him a little. His voice was sure, steady, and full of affection. 

"I don't break my promises, kiddo."

And then Sans faltered when Papier lunged and hugged him hard and buried his face in his hoodie, against his ribs. And slowly, hesitantly, Sans wrapped his arms around the kid. He'd only ever been this close to one other human, before.

One human, who he knew he'd broken by leaving.

And he knew deep down that he was going to break Papier, too.

So he tried not to meet Avec's gaze.


	13. Under The Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I found love where it wasn't supposed to be._   
>  _I found it right in front of me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooooo sorry this is late! Been super busy, but I'm going to try harder to keep chapters coming out in a timely fashion! Enjoy it :D

"Well," Avec stood by the window, holding the curtain back a little so he could see outside. "I don't think the rain has slowed even a little." He let the curtain fall back into place, blocking out most of the flash of lightening that appeared, however it did not quiet the thunder that followed and shook the house.

Avec used a lighter to relight one of the many candles sitting around his younger brother's bedroom, before he took his place beside Papier on the floor, crossing his legs. Papier was lying on his back, sprawled out, and he moaned meekly. "I'm so hungry... we need food." He put a hand to his head and closed his eyes. "This storm is gonna kill us, Avec..."

"We'll be okay, Paps." His brother soothed.

"How could you say that..?" Papier whined in a hushed voice, wide eyes staring up at the ceiling as if it was a white light come to take him home. "It's been three months! Our power is out, our house is flooding, we're out of food... we... we're gonna have to eat each other!" He suddenly realized, lulling his head over to Avec. "I'll sacrifice myself for you, bro."

His brother gave him a look and poked him in the belly, making him bolt up with a squeak. "It's only been three weeks, we're not gonna have to eat each other, and you don't need food anyway. You need a shower. You smell like something Death ran down and then backed over trying to see what he hit."

And his brother looked appalled sitting next to him. "Savage! Avec, I'm  _starving_!"

"I guess those two PB&J's just didn't do it for you then." He retorted skeptically, and Papier just returned his brother's 'look' with an unsuccessfully concealed grin, before scooting closer and leaning against his shoulder, closing his eyes and giving in.

"You're not very good at this whole pretending thing, bro." The little brother muttered, and Avec just chuckled and moved his arm to wrap around the kid.

And Sans was watching the brothers, sitting before them, leaning against the wall. He had an arm resting on an angled knee, the other leg outstretched, and he was smiling at the quirky banter the two exchanged. It made him miss Papyrus.

And go figure.

It made him miss her.

But he tried his best to shut the thoughts down.

Sans understood where Papier was coming from. The house wasn't flooding (yet) and it hadn't been three months, but it had definitely felt like it. He also felt himself getting a little stir crazy, being cooped up in the house, and without electricity all day, every day, with no idea when it would all end.

In the past few weeks, though, the boys and Sans had grown much closer. They played board games together, like  _Snakes & Ladders_, which Sans had promptly renamed  _Japers & Capers, _and then won, three times in a row, causing Papier to rage quit. Papier enjoyed Sans teaching him how to fight and protect himself, and Sans was always sure to teach him to only use these things when he was in  _danger._

The three of them would play a game where they reenacted some of their favorite movie scenes, and the others had to guess which one it was. Avec did a scene from _Fight Club,_ whereas Papier did the scene from  _Wolf on Wall Street_ after DiCaprio had taken half a bottle of Quaaludes. Sans had, obviously, never seen the movie - and he had quite obviously made the 'Sorry, I've never _scene_ it, kiddo' pun - and Avec and Papier had then dug the portable DVD player out of their closet and made him sit through DVD they'd scrounged up. He rather liked the movie. It was strange watching human television, it was different. It was a new experience that he was okay embracing. And he told them as much, in which they responded with a movie marathon. The screen was tiny, so they all huddle around it on the floor in the living room, in a pile of blankets. They'd even gotten to _Fight Club_ before the little machine died later that night.

Avec had at some point managed to get ahold of his work in the beginning. They'd actually had the gall to ask him why he hadn't come in for his shifts, and still tried to make him come in after that, despite what he'd told them. The brothers' neighborhood sat on somewhat of a hill, and many of the lower valleys and hills were flooded. Avec would've needed a canoe to get to work, and even then, the raging winds would cause a great challenge. But thankfully, he was still able to get information about the storm from someone.

He'd had just enough of a window of signal that he learned the storm raging on for twenty miles in either direction of their small town, and that concerned Sans greatly when he was told. He'd had it in his mind that he only traveled ten miles from the Junkyard to get here, however when he asked Avec if he knew Big Momma's Diner, he learned that it was far more than even twenty miles away. 

It was somewhere around forty miles away.

He told himself Avec was just confused, but the human male was even able to name the road and general direction it was located. And Sans wasn't entirely sure what to do with this information.

At least she was okay.

Well... safe from the storm.

That made him feel a little better.

On the other hand, learning that they hadn't even hit the eye of the storm yet was more than a little frustrating. Apparently it wasn't moving in a straight line, it was just sitting on top of them, spinning like a top, and even Sans, unfamiliar with surface weather as he was, thought that was strange and... mildly annoying.

Sans didn't mean to sigh aloud, but he did, and the brothers stopped their quiet chattering and looked his way, and he suddenly felt nervous being on the spotlight. Avec pulled away from Papier, look apologetically at him.

"Thinking about Papyrus?"

And he had been, but not really, so he nodded anyway. Papyrus and her were always hovering underneath the surface of his thoughts, threatening to bruise his already swollen guilt.

"I'm fine." He said instead, quietly. And Papier grinned a little.

"My friend Alek says that F.I.N.E. stands for fu-"

" _ALEKSAI_ shouldn't be  _teaching_ you those things....?" And it sounded like a question when Avec interrupted, but it wasn't., and Papier's mischievous smile was hidden when he looked down and admired the finely woven fabric of his carpet.

Sans rose an eye bone and looked from one brother to the other. Avec shook his head.

"You need to stop hanging out with Aleksai, Papier. He's not the best influence."

"Everybody loves him, though." Papier retorted, and the moment Avec took to compose himself and gather his thoughts was very noticeable. When he spoke, however, his voice was calm.

"Yeah, well... just because he's an officer of the law, doesn't mean he's incapable of doing wrong."

"Alek is a hero, bro..." But Papier seemed to be talking more to Sans. "He saved a couple of kids from a school fire a few years ago, and even helped with rebuilding after everything was said and done."

" _Alek_ is an obnoxious, obsessive asshole, and the world would be better off if he didn't have a gun holstered to his hip." Avec sounded bitter, and Papier looked at him a little in surprise for the language.

"At least Alana is nice..." Papier offered, and Avec grew a little softer.

"Alana is an angel. She's one of the sweetest things in the world." And then, again after a moment, "I'm not sure what she sees him."

"Or what she  _doesn't_ see in  _you_." Papier added. And Avec focused his eyes on him with an arched brow.

"No, Paps. We respect each other. That's it."

"You two  _so_ belong together." He said, flabbergasted as he fell back against the floor again, staring up at the ceiling and raising his hands towards it. "The stars are aligned to say as much!" He declared over dramatically. "You're both nerds."

"This coming from the kid quoting  _Dead Poet's Society_ this morning."

" _Sucking the marrow out of life, doesn't mean choking on the bone."_ He said in response, and they both stared at each other for a moment before suddenly looked at Sans, and Sans... he just stared back, his eye lights flickering between the two of them in confusion.

"What?" He asked.

"No bone puns?" Papier addressed, and Avec tilted his head.

"Or death jokes?"

"Or  _'hey, how'd you know about my dead fan club_?" Papier added lastly, and Sans didn't reply for a moment, eye lights eventually falling away from them to the boney hand in his lap.

He knew what they were saying.

_What the hell was wrong with him?_

_Why are you so quiet?_

_Why can't you just act happy for a change?_

Although, the rational part of his mind knew they weren't thinking those things. That was all him. And he couldn't summon enough will to pretend he was even slightly okay, like he was usually able to do.

"Sans," Avec quietly called, trying to pull Sans out of his funk, and something in Sans' soul trembled when he raised his eye lights to look at the brothers staring at him with so much concern. "I know you want to go home. I hope you know, though, that..."

"You always have a home with us!" Papier said suddenly, grinning from ear to ear. And Avec smiled, too, nodding.

"You're like another brother to us."

And Sans felt it hard to breathe, suddenly. And he was hardly grinning anymore, and he felt something inside him _stirring_.

And Papier moved, crawling from his place beside Avec to plant himself beside Sans against the wall, and he took him by the upper arm and hugged him tight. Sans wasn't able to do more than look down at him as he nuzzled his face into his shoulder bone, and then he felt Avec sit down on the other side of him, and the male lifted his arm to drape around Sans' shoulders.

And there he sat, hugged between the brothers, and thunder crescendoed in the distance, in sync with some feeling that welled inside his soul.

And he found a trace of magic radiating from his bones; his shoulders drooping, his grin sagging. The room was illuminated by his dim magic.

And if skeleton's could weep real tears, he would have. But instead, he whispered.

"...if you hug me any tighter, Paps, my _humerous_ might make a bad pun..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MAH HEART.


	14. Author's Note

Dear Unicorns,

  


Okay, some of you are probably going to be a little upset when you realize that this isn't a chapter, and even though I AM sorry, that's fine. I'm upset at me, too. You guys deserve a lot more than this measly little author's note for how long I've kept you waiting, and I promise you're going to get it! Just. . . not today. . .

I have no intentions of this story being left unfinished, because I have such major plans for it. However, because of how busy life has been - and I DO apologize, because I know so many author's use this excuse and it pains me to use it, too - I have been completely drained in writing, because I work a full time job and do daily games/streams for my YouTube channel, which, IF you are interested, can be found in the End Notes, but I don't blame you if I've lost you before this point. No offense taken. If you intended for offense to be taken, then. . . offense taken? Whatever helps you sleep at night .-.

On an end note, I just want to say I really want to get back into writing this. And I'm trying my best to set aside time to do so. That said, I also don't want to write while I'm in this writing funk, because currently, I need oodles of liquor in me to feel any form of inspiration towards words lately, and it's usually a 50/50 on whether or not what I drunk write turns out like the glorious nectar I thought it was while intoxicated. THIS WILL PASS. Or at least, it better, because this story was going to be one of my better achievements. I really do have such great things planned for it, things that I know you guys will like. It's just a matter of finding the inspiration to get back into writing it again.

So, again, I'm so very, very sorry. This story will eventually continue if you just hang in there and bare with me.

  


Sincerely,  
Your Friendly Neighborhood Pessimist,  
**Edissero**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My YouTube channel if you're interested in knowing why I'm so ficken busy outside of work all the dang time.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTPU3x1phBw


	15. In Your Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super short (and dark), and I'm sorry. I'm speeding up the story a little in hopes that it encourages me to keep writing.. .-.
> 
> Poor Sans.

The tapping was constant, but rhythmic. 

 _Tap._ Silence.

 _Tap tap._ Silence.

 _Tap_ _._ Silence.

 _Tap tap_ _._ Silence.

It went on like the for an eternity. _Tap._ And as the dimly lit kitchen came into focus before him, _Tap Tap_ Sans was eerily still as he sat on the stool at the bar and stared dead ahead. _Tap. On the_ fridge that sat against the wall across from him, _Tap Tap_ was a single crudely drawn picture that Papier had drawn of the three of them. _Tap._ And he stared, emptily, eye sockets void of any light that may suggest empathy, _Tap Tap_ or emotion, _Tap_ or soul.  _Tap Tap_

And as the otherwise silence of the house around him _Tap_ swallowed his skeleton in a nearly silent buzzing in the back of his mind, _Tap Tap_ and the stale, sickly sweet air filled his skull with a somehow familiar, yet foreign, scent, _Tap_ he recognized the blood along the lower half of the fridge.

_Tap Tap._

And he lowered his skull until the blood stains grew in sporadic splatters across the kitchen cabinets and floor.

_Tap._

And he took in the slumping, broken and mangled bodies embracing each other against the tiled surface, below the fridge.

_Tap Tap._

And he felt his soul thrum.

_Tap._

And the buzzing slowly crescendoed in the back of his skull.

_Tap._

Until it became so loud that he thought he might vomit.

_Tap Tap._

His form on the stool was so very, very still.

_Tap._

And then he was outside of his body, looking down on himself from in front.

_Tap Tap._

And as his vision closed in on the hollow sockets where his eyelights should have been,

_Tap._

The him that sat there, lifted his skull to reveal a darkness slipping from his sockets like oil.

_Tap Tap._

Dripping to the tile floor to mix with the crimson that pooled there.

_Tap._

And then with a vicious, fanged snarl, he lunged from the stool-

 

 

 

And Sans awoke with a flare of blue magic, destroying the lamp that sat on the nightstand, before the brightness of the room hit him like a brick wall and he had to shield his eye sockets.

And as his eye lights adjusted to the unfamiliar brightness, he slowly uncovered his eyes to see the rays of bright, unadulterated sunlight.

In the sunlight, there was a small silhouette.

_Tap Tap._

And it pecked at the glass of the window in rhythm. 

 _Tap._  

And he stared. He marveled, and he stared. 

_Tap Tap._

And then he finally remembered to breathe.

_Tap._

And then with trembling bones, he began to silently gather his things to leave, listening to the tapping intently, as if to constantly remind himself that he needed to.

_Tap Tap._


End file.
